


Impure

by peachcitt



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Changeling Jim Lake Jr, F/M, Humor, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, basically this is just canon except for the fact that jim is a changeling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-12-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 08:06:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26469910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachcitt/pseuds/peachcitt
Summary: "You, Master Jim, are the Trollhunter.”It was one thing to possess the amulet, to hold it in his hands. It was another to be called that cursed title, to know for a fact that it was true.He was going to die. He was going to be killed. He was going to be ripped limb from limb.All because of this goddamn amulet.orchangeling jim. what's more to say
Relationships: Barbara Lake & Jim Lake Jr., Jim Lake Jr./Claire Nuñez, Toby Domzalski & Jim Lake Jr., Toby Domzalski & Jim Lake Jr. & Claire Nuñez
Comments: 32
Kudos: 128





	1. Becoming (pt. 1)

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy :)

The alarm clock rang, and Jim sat up, slamming his hand down on top of it. The music stopped, and he opened his eyes to the cool morning light. 

For a moment, he stared at his hands, small and pale. And then he dragged them over his face, letting out a weary sigh.

He straightened his shoulders, and he smiled.

First things first, he gathered his books and journals into his bag, glancing over the homework he’d done the night before as he tucked it into his folder. He crept down the stairs, dropping his backpack on the last pillar of the stairs, and then proceeded into the kitchen. He’d pre-prepped his lunch and Toby’s the night before, so he assembled both lunches into plain paper bags and then moved on to breakfast.

Quick pancakes with blueberries on the right burner, scrambled eggs on the left. Ready in fifteen minutes, artfully arranged on one of the nicer plates - the white ones with the blue rings around the edge. The plate went on the tray, along with a glass of orange juice and a vase with a flower from the flowerbed hanging off the kitchen window. 

And then he was going back upstairs, tray in hands, eyes focused on the orange juice. Careful not to spill. 

Barbara’s door was closed, a sticky note telling him she’d be sleeping in because of a late shift. That was fine. That was how most mornings were anyway. He pushed the door open, careful of the creak, and he placed the tray on her bedside table.

She was still in her scrubs, her glasses digging into her nose. She’d fallen asleep on top of the blankets.

Jim carefully removed her glasses, folding them up and placing them on the breakfast tray, and then he found one of the extra blankets folded neatly in Barbara’s closet, and he draped it over her. He brushed a stray hair out of her face before leaving the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

He picked up his school bag and the lunches he’d made on his way to the garage, and then he was grabbing his bike, the garage door sliding open to reveal the day, the sun bright and piercing.

“What’s up Jimbo?” Of course Toby was already there. Jim smiled, tossing Toby the extra lunch he’d made as he finished buckling on his helmet. “What is it today?” he asked, and Jim raised his eyebrows.

“You’re really going to ask? Come on, impress me with your nose skills, Tobes.”

“Alright, get ready to be impressed,” Toby said, and he opened up the bag, taking a deep sniff. “I’m getting… Balsamic mushrooms, meatloaf, chunky sun-dried tomatoes…” He trailed off, wrinkling up his nose.

“And cardamom,” Jim finished, and Toby snapped his fingers.

“That’s the one,” Toby said, stuffing the lunch in his backpack. “Taking a risk there, huh, Chef Jim.”

“What’s life without a little adventure?” Jim asked with a little shrug, and they both got onto their bikes, beginning to ride their way to school.

“Well, I still can’t eat it,” Toby said, already beginning to pant as they rode down the street. “Adventure isn’t part of my diet. Because I  _ am  _ on a diet, you know.”

“You’ve been on a diet for the past 14 years,” Jim said.

“Yeah.”

“You’re 15.”

“My body’s still changing.”

Jim rolled his eyes.

“Ooh, we’re going to be so late,” Toby groaned, pedaling faster in an attempt to keep up with Jim. “On account of your artisanal meatloaf. We’re going to have detention for the rest of our lives because of  _ meatloaf.” _

“The canal it is,” Jim said, veering into the grass.

“Wait, no, not the canal!” Toby said, but Jim kept going.

“Come on, you’re the one that said we’re going to be late,” Jim called back, and he heard Toby reluctantly begin to follow him. “And really, adventure should be a part of your diet. I think it would be good for you.”

He could see the canal up ahead, between the trees. He started pedaling faster. 

“I beg to differ,” Toby said, and Jim laughed.

“I thought all teenage boys wanted adventure,” he said, and he sailed over the edge of the canal, his bike tires landing hard on the concrete. “I know I certainly do.” 

He glanced back at Toby, who had stopped short of the edge of the canal, looking anxiously down at the steep slope. “Yeah, well. We can’t all be cool guys like you, Jim.” He leaned his bike over the edge, looking a little green.

“Tobes, you  _ are  _ a cool guy,” Jim said, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to say more encouragement, but stopped short.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up straight, a chill ran down his back. A voice called out his name.

_ James...Lake...Jr. _

Slow and purposeful, no mistake.

Jim turned toward the voice, a frown pulling at his eyebrows. 

_ James...Lake...Jr. _

It was coming from a pile of rocks, just out from under the shade of the bridge. And there among the rocks, something glowed. Something beckoned to him.

_ James...Lake...Jr. _

Fear ran cold across his fingertips. He walked toward the pile of rocks. Distantly, he was aware that Toby had slid down the slope of the canal, his scream faraway to his ears. Jim crouched down, hands shaking as he pushed one of the rocks aside.

And the voice called to him, louder.

“Why’d you stop?” Toby asked, and Jim nearly jumped out of his skin. He glanced over at him.

“Tell me you don’t hear that.”

_ James...Lake...Jr. _

Toby shrieked, stumbling backwards. Jim felt something akin to despair as he stared down at the glowing blue amulet cradled safe in the rocks.

“Why is that thing talking to you?” Toby asked, and Jim picked up the amulet. It hummed in his hands, satisfied.

“Maybe it’s a toy or something?” Jim asked, swallowing thickly. He shook it lightly in his hands, pretending to check for a rattle or a voice box. There was none.

“But it knows your name,” Toby said, and Jim ran his thumb along the metal of the amulet.

“Probably just some joke.” He wanted to put it back down in the rocks. Everything inside of him was screaming to put it down, to walk away.

The school bell rang, and they both jumped.

“Oh my, gosh, we’re so late our children are going to get detention!” Toby exclaimed, running towards his bike. “Come on, Jim, before our grandkids get sentenced, too!”

“Right,” Jim said. He stared down at the curse in his hands.

He slipped the amulet into his bag.

  
  


\---

  
  


“The Peloponnesian War was actually three wars fought between Athens and Sparta. The first war is known as the Archimedean War. Type that into your search engines - spelled A-R-C-H-I-M-E-D-E-A-N.”

The dim classroom filled with the sounds of high school teenagers finger-pecking ‘Archimedean’ into their laptops. Jim tapped his fingers against his cheek, staring at the girl sitting two rows over and one row in front of him. 

“Ugh, really?” Toby whispered, giving him a look. The girl seemed to feel Jim’s eyes on her, and she turned, big brown eyes catching his. She smiled. Jim smiled back. “Close your mouth,” Toby said, and Jim shifted his eyes over to him. “You’re drooling.”

“Am not,” Jim said, because he wasn’t. He was only pretending to. Toby rolled his eyes, looking back down at his laptop and pulling up the search engine. He typed in something that was definitely not ‘Archimedean.’ Jim frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Research,” Toby replied, squinting at the screen. “I looked up ‘talking amulet’ earlier, but all I got was, like, toys and stuff.”

“There’s always the possibility it was a prank,” Jim offered, in vain.

“A very elaborate prank,” Toby said, and Jim drummed his fingers against his cheek again, glancing over at the girl he’d been staring at. 

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

Jim stiffened, looking behind him at Strickler. “What?” he asked, and his history teacher smiled at him, capping his pen.

“With Herodotus’ opinion on his tactics of war, as I’ve just described,” Mr. Strickler said, uncapping his pen again. His eyes slid over to Jim, who narrowed his eyes at him. He glanced over at Toby for moral support or assistance, but Toby very dutifully looked away.

“Uh,” he said, looking back to Strickler. “Absolutely.”

“Excellent,” Strickler said, capping his pen once more. “Which ones specifically?”

“The, uh, winning ones,” Jim replied, and the class erupted in laughter just as the bell rang. Students began packing up their things, and Jim began to do the same.

“Alright, alright,” Strickler said, addressing the quickly egressing students. “Don’t forget the Michaelson, chapters four and five for next class.” 

Toby waved his goodbye, and Jim nodded, trying to stuff his history textbook into his bag.

“Jim, may I have a word?” Strickler asked, eyes still watching the students leaving the room.

“Yeah, sure,” Jim said, and he gently nudged his bag off the desk, notebooks and earbuds spilling out onto the floor. Both he and Strickler crouched down, gathering what had fallen out in their hands.

“You’re distracted,” Strickler said, picking up one of Jim’s notebooks. “You fell asleep between the invasion of Attica and the Peace of Nicias. And your attention wandered for the rest of class.”

“I just didn’t get a lot of sleep,” Jim said, glancing behind him. There were still a few stragglers in the room. He raised an eyebrow at Strickler.

“I know it’s just you and your mother, and you want to take care of her,” Strickler said, making his voice all kind and gentle.

“She’s just really tired. You know she’s been working double shifts lately.”

“Yes, I do know,” Strickler said, fingers playing with the edge of Jim’s notebook, eyes on the last student still gathering their things. “I think I’m overdue with a conversation with her. And please know that you can come to my office to discuss anything with me, anything at all.”

“Of course, Mr. Strickler.”

Strickler stood up, placid smile still on his face as Jim stood up too, shouldering his bag. “Oh, and if you fancy Miss. Nuñez, then I subject that talking  _ to  _ will be better than staring  _ at.”  _ He tapped the notebook on Jim’s head, and Jim glared at him.

“Overkill,” he said under his breath, and Strickler grinned at him. 

“I do have to sell the part, you know.”

“Whatever,” Jim replied, glancing back at the now empty classroom. “What do you actually want?”

“Only to tell you to sell your part better.”

“You know it would actually be weirder if I was a good student,” Jim said, snatching the notebook from Strickler’s hands and stuffing it into his bag. “Teenage boys aren’t very smart, you know. Just look at Steve.”

“I’m all too aware,” Strickler said with a grimace. “Remember who grades your papers.”

“And it’s fine. I have friends, I have a crush on a girl. That’s all a teenage boy needs, right?”

“I’m only saying,” Strickler said with a casual shrug. “Whatever Bular or the Order has you doing running around at night can’t affect your studies too much.”

“It’s  _ fine,”  _ Jim said, turning away from Strickler with a roll of his eyes. “So stop micromanaging me. It’s condescending.”

Strickler caught his wrist, pulling him back from walking away. 

_ “What?” _ Jim snapped, turning back to him.

“What is  _ that?”  _ Strickler asked, flicking his eyes down to the outside pocket of Jim’s bag, where a certain amulet-shaped nuisance was glowing. 

Jim snatched his wrist out of Strickler’s hand. “It’s called a smartphone. Ever heard of it, old man?”

He heard Strickler scoff as he walked out of the classroom. Just as he knew he was out of Strickler’s sight, he zipped the outside pocket of his bag shut, cutting off the ethereal blue glow from the outside world.

“Stupid amulet,” he muttered.

  
  


\---

  
  


“I’m almost there,” Toby said, strain obvious in his voice. “I’m almost there.” He reached his hand up the rope, every muscle quivering. He was two feet off the ground.

“You got it, Tobes,” Jim said, pumping his fists. “You’re almost there!”

Toby let out a groan, falling and landing on his back on the mat, leg still tangled in the rope.

“You almost had it that time,” Jim promised, and Toby let out a sigh, giving him a grateful look because they both knew he was stretching the truth for Toby’s benefit. 

“What is  _ that  _ on my rope?” Coach Lawrence said, and Toby let out an undignified squeak. Jim watched Coach Lawrence berate Toby for a moment before excusing himself from the situation, looking over at the bleachers.

Claire Nuñez and her little group of girlfriends were sitting there, talking amongst themselves. 

If Strickler didn’t think Jim was acting his human part enough, then maybe he should work a little harder, as annoying as that prospect was. Wasn’t fifteen the normal age for teenage human boys to get girlfriends?

He straightened his back, taking a deep breath and walking over to Claire. He wasn’t a cool kid - that wasn’t really his act - so maybe he should go for dorky. But the question of exactly  _ how  _ dorky he should be was nagging at the back of his mind, distracting him from coming up with a passable opening line. So now he was standing in front of Claire, and he had his hand raised, but he hadn’t said anything yet.

The girls were looking at him. 

_ “Buenas noches,”  _ he said.  _ Well, that’s lame,  _ his brain provided rather unhelpfully.

Claire blinked at him. “You speak Spanish?”

“Uh-”

The bell rang. The girls started to stand up. Did all teenage human boys feel this lame? Or was this experience just for him, specifically?

“Come on, Claire, we have to change out of our gym clothes,” one of the girls said, already beginning to step off the bleachers. Once again, Jim wondered if this current situation was adequately lame enough for his human self. Claire tilted her head at him.

“Do you like Shakespeare?”

“What?” Human boys might be easy to understand - dimwitted, the lot of them - but human girls were now, apparently, a mystery. 

“Do you like Shakespeare?” she repeated, as if he was supposed to understand how the conversation had gotten here just because she asked the question a second time.

“Shakespeare,” Jim said. The bard. Girls of the twentieth century liked him now, supposedly. 

“The school play,” Claire said, pulling out a flyer from her book and handing it to him. “We’re doing  _ Romeo and Juliet,  _ but we’re having trouble getting boys to audition.”

“Oh.” They stared at each other for a moment. Claire smiled at him, retucking her hair behind her ear and glancing over at her waiting friends. “Uh,  _ hasta huevo,”  _ Jim said, rather lamely, and she gave him one last smile before rejoining her friends.

Well. It was a good thing human boys were idiots. He blended right in. Take that, Strickler.

  
  


\---

  
  


“So you talked to her?” Toby asked, attempting to put his socks on. “Like,  _ actually  _ talked to her, not just in your head?”

“Yeah,” Jim said, tying off his shoes and grabbing his bag from his gym locker. The flap opened up, revealing the amulet, and he quickly stuffed it out of view once more. “I unleashed my  _ Español  _ on her and everything.”

“Okay, well, you have to do it,” Toby said, still straining to put on his sock. 

“Do what?” Jim asked.

“The play.”

“What? No,” Jim said, shaking his head. “I’m not an actor.”

“But you’re always talking about adventure, or whatever,” Toby said with a shrug. “So there you have it. Adventure via  _ Romeo and Juliet.” _

“A school play isn’t really what I meant,” Jim said. “Adventure inherently means something completely outside of high school.”

“Right now, high school is all we get, Jimbo,” Toby replied, and Jim sighed.

There was a quiet scuttling sound, like stone tapping across linoleum floor, and Jim snapped his head toward it, catching the shape of something speed toward the showers. Toby continued prattling on, but that was far away now. He walked toward the showers, slow, careful.

It seemed like one of the showerheads was on, turned up to high heat, misting up the whole room. He could’ve sworn he and Toby had been the last ones in the locker room. 

And there was that sound again - solid stone against cheap linoleum - paired with a shadow cutting through the mist.

“Who’s there?” Jim asked, squinting through the mist, hands tightening on the strap of his bag. He felt his mind tug toward the amulet resting dormant among his textbooks, but he ignored it.

He clenched his jaw, taking a step into the shower room. He reached a hand out to the first stall, pressing his palm flat against the door.

“Got one!” Toby shouted, and Jim jumped, cursing under his breath. He dropped his hand, shaking his head and walking out of the shower room.

He really hoped he’d been imagining things.

  
  


\---

  
  


“My dentist said I’m almost done with braces. Great news, am I right, dude?” Toby was saying as they wheeled their bikes through the courtyard, getting ready to go home. “I mean, he says I only have four years left.”

“That’s...normal, right?” Jim asked. He didn’t think it was, but he wasn’t very sure. Toby shrugged.

On the other side of the courtyard, there was the sound of obnoxious laughter, and Jim turned his head. Steve, resident idiot and bully, had apparently just stuffed another student into a locker. As Jim watched, Steve slammed the locker shut.

“Alright,” Toby said, drawing out the vowels and turning his eyes away. “Nothing to see there.”

“We can’t just let him do that,” Jim said. Eli, the kid now stuffed in a locker, was a relatively nice kid. He’d let Jim borrow his science notes once - and comparatively, Steve was not very nice. And he was also annoying. Jim thought for a moment, considering his human status. “I mean, can we?”

“Yes, we can,” Toby replied, starting to wheel his bike faster toward the exit of the school. Jim stopped, though. “Every second Steve’s attention isn’t on us is a good second Jim.”

Logically, it made sense. Jim never stepped in to defend any of his peers from Bular. There was no reason to. 

But Eli was nice. And Steve sucked.

Jim took a deep breath, wheeling over to the lockers where Steve and his goonies were. It was fine, wasn’t it? Humans had a reputation for being all mushy gushy over nothing, right? Strickler did the mushy gushy act for the rest of the students. Jim might as well, too.

“Tell me again, dweeb-face,” Steve was saying toward the locker. “About the monsters, and then maybe I’ll consider letting you out.”

“Or you could let him out right now,” Jim said, and then he realized that maybe his voice sounded a little too gruff. He cleared his throat. “I mean, you know, that would be nice.”

Steve snapped his head around to him. “You know what would be nice? You minding your own business.” It was like he was a walking stereotype. Watch any late 90’s or early 2000’s high school drama movie, and you would see Steve right there, acting out his part as the stereotypical bully with broad shoulders and polo shirts galore.

Jim couldn’t tell if it was pathetic or impressive.

“Oh, hi, Jim,” Eli said from the locker.

“Hey, Eli,” Jim replied, and Steve scowled, slamming his fist against the locker to prevent Eli from responding.

“Shut up!” He ran a hand through his hair, seeming to think hard for a moment. “Where was I…? Oh, yeah! You were telling me about the monsters you saw this morning with fangs and, oh, what was it again?”

“Stone for skin!” Eli replied. “By the canal!”

Jim felt his stomach drop. He was suddenly very aware of the amulet sinking heavy in his bag, pulling toward him, beckoning to him with every second of breath.

“Stone for skin?” Steve repeated, letting out a barking laugh. “Oh, man, Eli, you have a wild imagination, don’t you?” He laughed again, and Jim bit the inside of his cheek, nudging the kickstand of his bike with his foot and setting it to the side.

It was one thing for a human to be spouting nonsense and for them to be made fun of for it. It was another for a human to speak the truth and be punished.

“Look, Steve,” Jim said, practicing his gentle human voice. “Seriously, just let him out.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, stalking over to him and grabbing the front of Jim’s sweater. He pulled Jim closer to him, so close they were practically nose to nose, and he raised his fist threateningly. 

“Okay do it,” Jim said, tilting his head at Steve. “Punch me.” It’s not like it would hurt much. He heard Toby gasp behind him, ever the worried friend. 

Steve seemed to falter. “You’re… asking for a beating?” he asked, lowering his fist.

“Yeah,” Jim said with a small shrug. “Just go crazy.” Bravado was a thing humans did, wasn’t it? “In twenty years, you’ll be old and bald and working in a muffler shop with nowhere to go and nothing to do. You’ll have peaked in high school just like all the other nobodies in this town. And you know where Eli will be?” He paused, letting himself smile. “He’ll be better than you in every single way. He’ll be successful and rich because he’s smart, and he won’t even remember you. No one will.”

For a moment, there was nothing, not from anyone. And Jim felt an encroaching anxiety. Maybe he’d been too harsh, maybe too ruthless. 

And then Toby spoke up. “Let him out!” he shouted, and then he began to chant. “Let him out! Let him out! Let him out!” 

And, miraculously, the crowd of people that had begun to form to watch an imminent beatdown began to chant along with him. Human mob mentality was a wonderful thing, on occasion.

Except now that Steve’s imaginary place at the top of the school was being threatened, Jim could see the need to prove himself twisting his face. It was a familiar emotion, a familiar determination - he could practically smell it. Steve raised his fist. Jim braced himself for impact.

“Palchuk! What’s going on here?” shouted a voice from across the courtyard. Jim, Steve, and all of the crowd turned their heads to see Coach Lawrence setting his beady eyes on the situation, no doubt already aware of what was going on.

Steve immediately dropped Jim, taking a solid two steps back. “Uh, nothing, sir. I was just helping my buddy Eli here.” He opened up the locker, revealing Eli crammed in the locker.

“Hey, guys,” Eli said, waving a hand to the watching crowd.

“He was stuck,” Steve said.

“Get over here,” Coach Lawrence said. “On the double. Now!” 

“Got it, Coach,” Steve replied, and he slammed the locker shut. He passed by Jim, leaning in close and nearly pressing his mouth to his ear. “Friday at noon. You and me.” He backed away, walking backwards toward Coach Lawrence. “Tick tock,” he finished, ever the stereotype.

Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Eli knocked on the locker door. Jim opened it up once more, and Eli tumbled out, falling in a sprawl on the ground. “Thanks, Jim,” he said, voice weak.

“Yeah, sure,” Jim replied with an easy shrug. He walked back over to his back, ignoring the whispers and stares of the crowd. Maybe he overdid it.

  
  


\---

  
  


“Did you see how cool I was with the chant?” Toby asked, all giddy despite the fact that he hardly did anything at all. 

Well, okay. It’s not like he did  _ nothing.  _ Jim had to admit that he’d never really been stood up for like that, not by anyone. But he refused to admit that it had gotten to him in any way. That would be too soft.

Toby was just another piece of his disguise. A lame friend for a lame human kid.

“I mean, you probably won’t live past Friday, but it was a really cool moment for us,” Toby continued, and Jim laughed. “Good thing your mom’s a doctor.”

Speaking of, Barbara’s car approached them, letting out a small honk and slowing to a stop beside them. “Hey, boys,” she said, pushing her glasses up and smiling at them.

“Hey, Mom,” Jim said, and Toby pulled up beside them.

“Looking sharp, Doctor L.,” Toby said, and Jim snorted. Gross.

“Thanks, Toby,” Barbara said, because she was practically a saint. “So do you.”

“Oh, does it show?” Toby asked, brightening. He looked down at himself and started flexing his barely existent muscles.

Jim turned back to Barbara. “You’re going to be out late tonight?” he asked.”

“Yeah,” Barbara replied with a small sigh. “Dr. Gilburg is out with bursitis, and Dr. Lenz has a wedding out of town this weekend.”

“Okay, but don’t forget to bring your-”

“Dinner,” she finished, smiling at him. “I got it, thank you.” She reached over to the passenger seat and held up the brown paper bag Jim had left for her in the fridge. 

“Great, and please try to find an oven to heat it up instead of nuking,” Jim said. “It takes all the flavor away, you know.” He suddenly remembered his conversation with Strickler earlier, about wanting to have a talk with Barbara. Had he been serious, or was he just being a jerk?

“Jim, there must be a million other things you’d rather be doing than looking after me,” Barbara said with a fond sigh, replacing her dinner bag in the passenger seat.

Whatever. Strickler was a tool, and Barbara had enough on her plate as it was.

“Can’t think of one,” Jim replied.

“Love you, honey,” Barbara said, giving him a warm smile.

“Bye, mom,” Jim replied, and she rolled up the window and drove away.

“You mother your mother a lot,” Toby said, and Jim snorted.

“Funny. See you tomorrow, Tobes.” He gave him a wave before biking toward his house.

“Bye, Jimbo,” Toby replied, pedaling toward his house across the street.

Walking into his house, Jim let out a sigh, plopping onto the couch and turning on the TV. Some dumb infomercial advertising for a blender played in the background, and Jim let it play, glancing over at his bag.

Biting the inside of his cheek, he unzipped the outside pocket. The amulet was there - quiet now, not glowing. But he could still feel it, somehow. Like a ghost sensation, a missing limb.

He took it out of the pocket, feeling the soft weight of it in his hands, tracing the markings on the medal with his thumb.

_ I am Gun Robot. Pick up your phone- _

Jim picked up his phone, putting a stop to the dumb ring tone that he kind of loved. “Hey, Tobes.” He barely even had to check the caller ID. Toby always called him after they got home, despite the fact that they pretty much spend the whole day together in school and also live across the street from each other.

“Did it do anything? Did it talk to you?”

The stupid amulet.

That Jim was currently holding. 

“Nope,” Jim replied, completely nonchalant.

On the other end of the line, he heard Toby’s nana call him for dinner. “In a minute Nana!” Toby yelled, and Jim winced, pulling the phone away from his ear. “Text me if it does anything cool,” Toby finished, and Jim hung up.

As if he could text Toby about the amulet. He should most definitely keep the true nature of it to himself - if anyone knew it was in his possession, he would be toast. And it’s not like Toby was the master of secrets.

One stray word was all it took to take a life.

And it was  _ his  _ life he was talking about, so Jim was particularly invested in keeping it safe.

The infomercial was still playing, and Jim grabbed the remote off the couch, flipping to the next channel. He watched it for a moment - one of the  _ Gun Robot  _ remakes - before his attention was drawn back to the amulet. It had begun to glow again.

“Stop it,” Jim said to the amulet, as if it could understand him. 

The amulet continued to glow.

“I don’t care if you knew my name, or whatever. For all I know you could be talking about the squirt down below.” The real Jim Lake Jr. Who knows if this piece of sixth century garbage could tell the difference between a human and its changeling counterpart? “So just…” Jim shook his head, half angry, half helpless. “So just stop, alright? It’s not me you want.”

Despite these very logical words, the amulet continued to glow.

“God,” Jim said, plopping his arms in his lap and glaring up at the ceiling. “I’m talking as if it’ll understand me.”

For a moment, there was silence, and Jim dropped his gaze back down to the amulet, still happily, stubbornly, glowing away. He considered it for a moment, considered the aching feeling in his chest. And then there was a clattering from the basement below, and his heart seized.

He stuffed the amulet out of sight, getting up from the couch and creeping toward the basement door. More clattering.

“Goblins,” he whispered, and he hoped to Morgana and all her creatures that they hadn’t seen him with that godforsaken amulet.

He opened the basement door, grabbing a broom as an impromptu weapon - just in case the intruder was more human-shaped than he first assumed - and crept down the stairs.

There was nothing, not at first. A small scuttling sound, maybe.

When he reached the middle of the basement, he pulled on the rope that connected to the light, washing the dark basement with a dull yellow glow. He looked around, brandishing the broom and squinting through the shadows.

“Master Jim!” exclaimed a voice from behind him, and Jim jumped a full 180 degrees, tripping over his feet in fear and surprise all in one and falling onto his butt. He was normally more graceful and battle ready - the amulet had shaken him up considerably.

Which, he now figured as he stared at who had called his name, was probably for the best.

A troll was in front of him. Smiling at him.

The human thing to do was scream. So that’s what Jim did.

“Master Jim,” the troll said again, and Jim screamed again, scrambling backwards. “I’m so glad we were able to find you!”

_ We? _

“I am known as Blinky,” the troll said, and Jim scrambled back some more, running straight into solid stone. He looked up, and this time, the scream he let out was real.

Aaarrrgghh, one of Gunmar’s most fierce former warriors, was  _ right there.  _ Jim had never met him in person, but he had heard stories about how ruthless and terrible he’d been before defecting like a coward. And the ruthless, terrible, fierce Aaarrrgghh waved and smiled at him.

“Hi,” he said, and Jim gaped at him in disbelief.

“It’s Aaarrrgghh,” Aaarrrgghh said. “With three ‘r’s.”

Jim screamed again because, logically, that seemed the way to go, and he pulled himself off the floor, trying to back away from the two trolls and only succeeding in backing into the furnace. He yelped in pain, jumping away from the furnace and tripping over his feet  _ again.  _ Really, quite the performance he was putting on. 

He couldn’t quite tell if it was pathetic or impressive.

Aaarrrgghh frowned at him. “Smell funny,” he said, and Jim felt real and true terror take hold of his heart. So far the trolls seemed amicable enough, but he was almost completely certain it was because of the fact that they didn’t know he was a changeling.

“AXE body spray,” Jim said weakly, letting his knees go weak and falling to the floor. “Ever heard of it?”

“How does one spray axes?” the troll with six eyes - Blinky - asked. “Humans are so inventive.”

“Thanks,” Jim said, springing to his feet and beginning to run. “Bye.”

Aaarrrgghh’s giant stone hand wrapped around his legs, stopping him in a moment and lifting him up off the ground. Upside down. Jim covered his eyes.

Embarrassing.

“Master Jim, you have been chosen,” Blinky said, and Jim shook his head.

“No, thank you,” he muttered, probably too quiet for them to hear.

Aaarrrgghh lifted him a little higher, humming in the back of his throat. “Blinky, he looks scared.”

He was less scared and more filled with rage and embarrassment, but whatever got him through this terrible situation was fine by him.

“Ah,” Blinky said. “Aaarrrgghh, my good fellow, would you mind?” Jim peaked through his fingers, seeing Blinky gesture vaguely in the direction of Jim. “This is a moment of solemnity.”

“Sol-im-bo-ly?” Aaarrrgghh asked.

“It means serious and dignified,” Blinky replied, completely patient.

“Dig-noo-fied,” Aaarrrgghh said, sounding quite pleased upon learning a new word.

“Can you put me down please?” Jim said, and Aaarrrgghh promptly dropped him, maneuvering him around like a ragdoll until he was standing on his own two feet. He gave Jim a solid pat on the head, like some sort of pet.

Jim couldn’t tell if it was condescending or an honor. Perhaps a bit of both.

“Now where was I?” Blinky asked.

“Master Jim, found you,” Aaarrrgghh reminded.

“Ah, yes, thank you,” Blinky said, clearing his throat and steepling his sixteen fingers. “Master Jim, you have been chosen.” Once again, Jim tried to run. Aaarrrgghh put a hand out, stopping him in his tracks. “The Amulet of Daylight challenges you to ascend to the most sacred of offices.”

Is that what the trolls though of that stupid amulet? Lame.

“Unbeknownst to your kind,” Blinky continued, leaning closer to Jim, “there is a secret world, a vast civilization of trolls lurking beneath your feet.”

They really thought he was human. Jim was suddenly extremely thankful that he had always been so careful and had played his human part so well. In part, of course, thanks to Strickler’s constant nagging - not that he would ever tell Strickler that.

Speaking of acting human.

“T-trolls?” Jim stuttered. 

“Yes, trolls,” Blinky said, nodding sagely. “And now it is your charge to protect them. Because you, Master Jim, are the Trollhunter.”

The feeling that overcame Jim at that moment could best be described as taking a nose dive into a glacier. 

“Trollhunter,” Aaarrrgghh repeated, and the ice got colder.

“This honor is yours to accept,” Blinky said, speaking as if he truly thought that it was an honor. “So what say you?”

It was one thing to possess the amulet, to hold it in his hands. It was another to be called that cursed title, to know for a fact that it was true.

He was going to die. He was going to be killed. He was going to be ripped limb from limb.

All because of this goddamn amulet.

The ice took hold of him, and he fainted.

  
  


\---

  
  


When he woke up, the basement was empty. 

He wished what had happened had been a dream.

But he knew it wasn’t.

  
  


\---

  
  


Jim pushed open the door of Strickler’s office. “I’m coming in,” he said, and Strickler put down his pen, rolling his eyes.

“You could at least  _ pretend  _ to respect me as your teacher,” he said. “But fine. Sit. What is it you want?”

“Well, first,” Jim said, grabbing a stool from the side of Strickler’s office and rolling it over to the front of Strickler’s desk, “to inform you that I do not and never will respect you as my teacher.” Strickler rolled his eyes. Jim spun the seat around, trying to adjust its height. “And second, I…”

This was a bad idea. 

He sat down on the chair. No way could he tell Strickler about the amulet. 

The chair still wasn’t at the right height again, so Jim stood up, spinning it around a few more times. He concocted a lie.

“Last night, I might’ve been informed that I” - he spun absently around in the chair - “might be taking on some new responsibility.” He spun around again. “Maybe some stuff that I don’t think I agree with.”

Strickler narrowed his eyes. “What new responsibility?”

Jim spun around in the chair again. “Let’s call it…” He glanced over at the chessboard by the window, all set up with the pieces. “Strategy.” He stood up from the chair and walked over to the chessboard, picking up the wooden knight piece. “Something that could be very advantageous for us, or could be something incredibly stupid that could get me killed.”

He glanced out of the window, watching Steve on the football field kick savagely at a ball. Even though Steve was the least of his fears, he couldn’t help but imagine his head as the ball. He winced.

“Why would that have you so perturbed?” Strickler asked, and Jim could practically feel his eyes on his back, watching him closely for a lie, for a slip up of any kind.

“I like being alive,” Jim said with a roll of his eyes. “And this is a big risk.”

“I think I know what has you so distraught, Jim,” Strickler said, standing up from his chair, and Jim resisted the urge to tense up.

“You do?”

“It’s like I told you yesterday,” Strickler continued, walking over to Jim. “You have a lot on your shoulders. Too much, in my opinion, for someone your age.”

Jim rolled his eyes. “Whatever, old man.”

“And I think this new responsibility,” Strickler continued, ignoring him, “might be causing you anxiety. You’re afraid to fail in the face of our great cause.”

“Failing means dying,” Jim said. “It’s a healthy fear to have.”

“True,” Strickler relented. “But we won’t win without a little risk. It’s like a great poet once wrote - ‘do what’s good for you, or you’re not good for anybody.’ Take the risk, Jim.”

Jim squinted down at the knight chess piece before replacing it on the board. He looked back up at Strickler. “If it bites me in the butt, I’m blaming you.”

The school bell rang, and Jim grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder.

“Your welcome for the advice,” Strickler said, and Jim waved a hand.

“Whatever.”

As he walked out of the room and into the hallway, he felt a familiar tug on his chest. He looked down at his bag, and his heart froze at the sight of the amulet, glowing happily away in the unzipped outside pocket of his bag.

It was perfectly in view of anyone who bothered to look.

Quickly, he zipped the pocket shut, cursing his own stupidity.

He was as good as dead.

  
  


\---

  
  


That night, after he finished assembling tomorrow’s lunches for himself, Barbara, and Toby, Jim glanced over at his bag, where he knew the amulet was waiting.

It was a strange feeling - to know so completely that an object was filling the silence with its purpose.

“Fine,” Jim muttered under his breath, tossing the knife he’d been using back into the slot of the knife rack. He grabbed the amulet and walked out into his backyard.

Once outside, the wind rustled, as if it could sense that something big was about to happen - was currently happening.

Jim stared down at the amulet, and as he watched, the text on the outer rim of metal cycled through different languages - Chinese characters, Arabic script, Egyptian hieroglyphics - before it settled on English.

He felt his stomach curdle.

“For the glory of Merlin,” he whispered, voice shaking, heart clenching, “Daylight is mine to command.”

At first, nothing happened. 

And then the wind breathed a new life, rustling leaves and creaking through the wooden fence. Sparks of pale blue light flew out of the amulet, sinking into the aching space of Jim’s chest, filling the void that it had created the moment it had called to him that morning in the canal.

He was lifted off the ground with the force of it, the air encasing him in a gentle cradle as armor forged from old magic and daylight formed around him, slotting together and encasing him in the silver gleam of power. 

And it was way too big for him.

Until he dropped back to the ground and the armor closed tight around him, shrinking to fit his small human size.

“Morgana forgive me,” he whispered, and a soft spark of blue light emitted from the glowing amulet on his chest, trailing down and embedding itself into the palm of his hand.

A sword that was as long as he was tall appeared in his hand, and he groaned with the weight of it until it too shrunk down to accommodate for his small human body.

It was a good weight - perfect for him, really. 

He swung it around, testing it in his grip.

And it hurt, how right it felt.

He let out a scream, something guttural and animal, and he drove the sword into a large stone in the backyard. Backing away, he let it stand there alone, away from him.

He covered his face with his hands, feeling weak tears prick at the backs of his eyes, and he sobbed, something base and terrible. He took the grip of the sword in his hands, leaning his forehead against his fists.

He was wearing armor made of Daylight, and Death was knocking on his door.


	2. Becoming (pt. 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’m auditioning for the play,” Jim said.
> 
> Strickler fixed his expression into one of mild concern. “What about chess?” he asked, and Jim clenched his jaw.
> 
> “Doing that too, apparently,” Jim replied through gritted teeth. 
> 
> “How ambitious of you,” Strickler said, pulling out his pen and clicking it open and closed. Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
> 
> or
> 
> everything is fine, except for the fact that everything sucks, actually.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy :)

All things considered, Jim took the revelation that he was, for some inexplicable reason, the new protector of those weakling trolls quite well. He made lunches like normal, went to school like normal, and did his homework like normal. Everything was going fine.

Despite the fact that he had been almost certain that Strickler had seen the amulet in his bag the day before, he didn’t say anything today, which was good. He did, however, keep on shooting Jim those stupid smug, knowing looks of his that just reeked of false superiority all throughout history class, but that was just normal Strickler, so, really, Jim had no idea of what to think of that.

So everything was fine.

True, he was sitting on the couch watching a very weird adaptation of  _ Romeo & Juliet  _ on cable while shoveling slightly burned microwave popcorn in his mouth, but it was fine. 

Really.

His eyes slid over to his school bag, hung up on the last pillar of the stairs. 

The amulet was there.

He could practically taste it, which was kind of weird.

It was just like-

It was just like ever since he’d caved the night before and let himself make the stupid decision of putting on the armor and saying the magic words, the hole inside of him - this gaping, strange emptiness in his chest - had only worsened. He’d cried his weak tears, and he’d torn the sword out of the stone like it was the arm off of an enemy, and he’d taken off the armor, and then he’d spent the night tossing and turning, cursed hand reaching for cursed metal.

He’d spent his whole life playing his part, moving around in his role as the Order’s little dog, playing the perfect son and the semi-perfect student. And it had all felt fine. He’d never gotten the sense that there had been something missing, something he had yet to find.

But now it was like he was one part of a whole, a puzzle missing a piece.

And that piece was just across the room from him.

And he hated it.

He glared at the  _ Romeo & Juliet  _ adaptation. 

What was even so compelling about it? What was so cool about destiny, about star-crossed?

In Jim’s very valid opinion, absolutely jack shit.

“You mean nothing to me,” Jim said, not even looking in the direction of the amulet. “You are not a part of me. You never will be.”

The gaping hole in his chest seemed to widen, as if in spite of him.

“You’re not making me do this again,” Jim said, stuffing another handful of popcorn into his mouth. There was always the possibility that he could fill the emptiness inside of him with popcorn. It was unlikely to work, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

He grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed it into his mouth, as if out of spite. He bit down hard, just to really drive home his point, and found his teeth slamming down onto metal. Which, as a human with fragile human teeth, hurt way more than he was used to.

He spat out the handful of popcorn as well as the stupid amulet, which clattered onto the coffee table. It seemed to look at him in a strange sort of satisfaction, despite the fact that it didn’t have a face to speak of.

“No,” Jim said, and it glowed. “Stop that.” It glowed brighter. His anger rose. He said a few choice curse words, and then he was being surrounded in a swath of blue magic light.

“I didn’t even say the stupid magic words,” he complained as the armor snapped into place around his limbs. The amulet did not seem to listen to him, nor did it listen to him when he said a few more choice curse words in an attempt to get it off.

He flopped back down onto the couch, glaring up at the ceiling.

This sucked.

Everything sucked.

Eventually, he got distracted from his moping by the weird adaptation of  _ Romeo and Juliet  _ ending and being immediately followed by one of the  _ Gun Robot  _ movies, which Jim was fond of. Most human things were pretty subpar, but the entire  _ Gun Robot  _ series was really well made - that is, except for the fifth one. That one wasn’t great.

As the exposition of the movie was running through, Jim found himself relaxing into the couch, and then he found himself relaxing on the couch  _ sans  _ magical daylight armor. He looked down at the amulet in his lap, raising his eyebrows. 

“Not a  _ Gun Robot  _ fan? No wonder we don’t get along.” He snorted. “Right,” he said, and he tossed the amulet to the other side of the couch.

And then his front door opened, a calamitous noise.

In a flash, he was standing up, hand instinctively reaching out to the amulet, pulling it to him until it was nestled safely in his hand, wrapping him in its safe and warm blue light, in the armor. The curve of the amulet in his palm was replaced by the hilt of his perfectly balanced sword, and he leveled the point of it at the front door, ready to face the fight, ready to win, ready to-

_ “Dude,”  _ Toby said.

“Mother  _ f-” _

“What. Is.  _ That?”  _ Toby continued, slamming the front door behind him and bounding further into the house to grab Jim and closer examine the armor. “Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh- Is this magic? Did I just see magic?  _ Jim!” _

“No, no, no,” Jim said as Toby tapped a finger against the amulet and it glowed warmly.

“Jim, you have a  _ magic amulet,”  _ Toby said, throwing his hands up and grabbing Jim’s shoulders and shaking him back and forth.

“It’s a perfectly normal amulet-”

_ “We  _ have a magic amulet,” Toby continued, as if he didn’t hear. “Oh, my gosh, and here I was coming back from my dentist appointment to see if you had frozen peas- by the way, do you have frozen peas? Jim, oh, my gosh, you’re like a  _ knight.”  _ He gasped dramatically. “And I could be your duke! Oh, my gosh, do you think there’s another magical amulet out there? Or, like, a ring or something? I think my fingers would look nice with a ring. Or, wait, even better, I could get a  _ war hammer!  _ How cool would that be?”

“Toby,” Jim said before Toby could draw in another breath to keep talking, “it’s not magic. It’s my…” He trailed off, waving a hand vaguely. “Very elaborate knight costume.”

As if on cue, the magic sword in his hand disappeared into blue mist. Jim grit his teeth.

“Jim,” Toby said, and Jim let out a groan, glaring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah, it’s magic.”

There was a knock on the back door, and Jim jumped, pushing Toby behind him with his left hand, the sword of daylight manifesting in his right. He squinted his eyes at the darkened window on the door, pointing the tip of the sword at the doorknob.

That troll from before, the one that had been with Aaarrrgghh - Blinky, was it? - peeked his head through the window, foolish face breaking open into a grin. Jim lowered the sword. Reluctantly.

“What the heck is that?” Toby gasped as Jim stepped away from him and he caught a good look at Blinky’s smiling face through the window. “Don’t open the door, it could be a-”

Blinky burst open the door, spreading all four of his arms wide. Jim thought vaguely of getting better locks for the doors. “Master Jim!” Blinky exclaimed, and Toby whimpered, hand tight on Jim’s arm.

“I’m calling 911,” he said, already reaching for his phone.

“Don’t do that,” Jim said, half-heartedly. 

Aaarrrgghh attempted to shoulder his way through the small doorway, and Toby straight up screamed, letting go of Jim to hide behind the kitchen counter. “No, no- I’ll call animal control!”

“Don’t do that either,” Jim said, but he doubted he said it loud enough for Toby to hear him.

“I knew it was only a matter of time before the amulet called to us,” Blinky said, and there was a crash as Aaarrrgghh fell onto the floor, having squeezed through the small door frame.

“‘Called’ to you?” Jim asked, glancing over at Aaarrrgghh who gave him a shy look that looked extremely incorrect on his brutish features before pushing himself up off the floor. “It does that to you guys too?”

“Well, no,” Blinky said with a shrug.

“Hello, animal control?” Jim heard Toby say from where he was crouched behind the kitchen counter. He chose not to do anything about that.

“The truth is that we’ve been spying on you,” Blinky finished, as if that was a completely okay thing to do.

“You’ve been spying on me?” Jim asked, feeling anxiety grow in the pit of his stomach. He racked his brain for anything suspicious that he might’ve done in the past few days - there was nothing, nothing that he could think of straight away.

He hadn’t gotten any missions from the Order recently, and he could hardly remember the last time he shifted. He was careful, and being careful meant never revealing his true form, no matter how itchy being human got. It was an itch he could bear for the sake of keeping his comfortable life.

“There’s monsters!” Toby said, no doubt into his phone, “at my friend’s house! I need you to send a squad.”

Man, he really missed those times before last week when his life was comfortable.

“Make that the national guard!”

He  _ really  _ missed those times.

“Animal control hung up on me.”

There goes the plan of local authorities showing up, causing the trolls to have to leave the vicinity in order to give Jim some peace and much needed space. It was too bad Toby wasn’t good in stressful situations.

“You told your stout little friend about us?” Blinky asked, and Jim looked back at him, narrowing his eyes.

“Well, it’s not like I was planning to,” he said, sheathing his sword behind his back. “I mean, I would appreciate a heads up next time you guys decide to visit. And I would also appreciate not being spied on anymore. Gives me the creeps.”

“We were only ensuring your safety,” Blinky said, and he glanced worriedly over at Toby, who was being lifted out of his hiding place by Aaarrrgghh, who promptly placed him on top of the countertop. “And I do recognize that we should’ve been more cautious entering your humble abode. Normally, we trolls go through great lengths to conceal our existence, lest it cause a panic.”

Toby grabbed a soup ladle, holding it out in front of him like it might help him in some way. “I’m going to die,” he said, and Jim took a deep breath, wiping a hand down his face.

“No, you’re not,” he said, stepping away from Blinky to attempt to soothe Toby. “It’s alright Tobes,” he tried. Toby levelled the soup ladle between Blinky and Aaarrrgghh, nearly hyperventilating.

“They’re, like, nine feet tall.”

“Okay,” Jim said when it was obvious Toby wasn’t going to listen to him. “This is Toby,” he said to Blinky and Aaarrrgghh.

“He has, like, 800 eyes,” Toby said, pointing the soup ladle at Blinky, who only had six eyes. “Ohmygosh we’re going to die.”

“Hardly,” Blinky said, stepping forward and putting on an amicable smile. “Your friend is the Trollhunter” - Jim scrunched up his nose - “his noble obligation is protective.”

“Protective,” Toby repeated, lowering the soup ladle. He blinked. “You mean like a superhero? Ooh, can I be his sidekick? With, like, a really cool superhero name like Deathblade or Supersnake?”

Jim turned to Blinky. “Okay, but, who  _ exactly  _ am I protecting?”

“Us,” Aaarrrgghh said, gesturing to himself.

“And mankind,” Blinky continued, “from bad trolls. As well as goblins, gruesomes, and occasionally the rogue gnome.” He paused, turning his head toward Toby, who was tapping the soup ladle against Blinky’s stone skin. “Do you  _ mind?” _

Toby dropped the ladle.

“The mantle of Trollhunter is a sacred responsibility,” Blinky continued, turning back to Jim, “one which has never been passed down to a human before.” He leaned in close to Jim, his eyes narrowed, and Jim leaned back, holding his breath. “This is a momentous occasion.”

He smiled.

Jim blinked.

They really didn’t know.

A car horn honked, and Jim snapped his eyes over to the front window, which showed Barbara’s car pulling into the driveway. He thanked Morgana and all her creations that Barbara always honked before entering the house to let him know she was home.

“It’s my mom,” he said, beginning to try and push Blinky and Aaarrrgghh toward the back door. “You guys have to leave.  _ Now.” _

Aaarrrgghh tried to squeeze through the door, but it was quickly becoming clear that this was not a task that was going to happen quickly. Blinky turned back to Jim. “Master Jim,” he started, and Jim groaned, throwing his hands up and turning toward the stairs.

“Fine! Fine, everyone upstairs.”

They ran up the stairs, managing to shove themselves in the small bathroom just as the front door opened and Barbara stepped into the house.

“Jim?” she called. “It’s me.”

“She’s not supposed to be home until midnight,” he muttered, pressing his back against the bathroom door.

“I forgot my phone,” he heard her say, and he breathed out a small sigh, letting his head thump against the door.

“Are you okay in there?”

He froze. She had walked up the stairs and was now right outside the bathroom door. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jim said, backing away from the door and checking to make sure it was locked. “I mean, my stomach might be a little…” He trailed off, trying to think of a good enough excuse.

Toby grabbed the toilet bowl cleaner, splashing it into the toilet water and making fart noises. Jim snapped his head over to look at him.

_ “Dude,”  _ he hissed, and Toby gave him a helpless look, continuing to make ridiculous fart noises and water splashing noises even when Jim gestured for him to stop. Absolutely  _ useless  _ under pressure. “Um,” he said, turning back to the door and raising his voice for Barbara, “I might have a, uh, food poisoning situation.”

“Oh, honey,” Barbara said sympathetically. “I’ll go grab you some medicine.” He heard her footsteps recede.

He breathed out a sigh of relief, turning back to the packed bathroom. He clawed at the amulet on his chest, trying to take it off. It didn’t budge. He let out a quiet groan, looking over at Blinky. “What’s happening here? Why won’t it come off?”

“The amulet is reacting to your emotional state. You seem to be in some state of distress,” Blinky said, and Jim threw up his hands, gesturing to everything around them. Toby turned off the lights of the bathroom to look at the amulet glow. Jim flicked the lights back on, giving him a look.

“You think?” he snapped back at Blinky.

“Okay, I have a question,” Toby said, looking over at Blinky. Aaarrrgghh reached over him and began flicking the light switch, turning the lights on and off.

“Speak, Theodore,” Blinky said.

“It’s Toby. Or Tobias, I guess,” Toby said, nudging Aaarrrgghh’s giant arm away from the light switch. Aaarrrgghh’s hand retreated, leaving the lights off. “If you said Jim was the first human Trollhunter, who - or  _ what  _ \- was the Trollhunter before him?”

“The glorious mantle has been passed from troll to troll for centuries,” Blinky said, and Toby nodded.

“So, what? The previous Trollhunter retired?” he asked, and Jim bit his lip, pressing his ear to the door to see if his mother was returning.

“Was… felled,” Aaarrrgghh replied, and Jim resisted the urge to bang his head rhythmically on the wooden door.

“Felled?” Toby asked. “You mean like  _ killed?” _

“Turned to stone and smashed,” Blinky agreed sadly. “Kanjigar the courageous was his name. Brutally slain by a ruthless troll named Bular.” Jim leaned his forehead against the door. He really needed to figure out a way out of this godforsaken situation.

“Don’t worry, dude,” Toby said, patting Jim’s shoulder and flicking the lights on. “He probably just got lucky.”

“The evidence does not suggest that,” Blinky said, shaking his head gravely. “Bular is a formidable opponent.”

“Mhm,” Jim said. He desperately wanted this conversation to end.

“Well, then, the other guy was just having an off-day, then,” Toby suggested, and Blinky again shook his head.

“Doubtful. Kanjigar was perhaps the most alert and able of all the Trollhunters.”

“But not the best,” Toby said, and Jim banged his forehead against the door once, softly.

“Oh, no, the very best,” Blinky said, shaking his head again. “Many songs and sagas were composed about him.”

Jim let out a groan, banging his head against the door again, a little harder.

“What my friend here is worried about, I think,” Toby continued, putting a comforting hand on Jim’s shoulder, “is if this-”

“Bular,” Aaarrrgghh supplied.

“Bular, right - so if Bular could defeat Kanjigar-”

“Smash to pieces,” Aaarrrgghh said, unhelpfully. Jim banged his head against the door again.

“-Then what’s going to happen to Jim?” Toby asked.

“A troubling query, indeed, Tom,” Blinky said. Toby gave him a look. “Tobias,” Blinky corrected, giving him a smile. “Of course, we would never expect Master Jim to engage in battle without the proper training.”

“See?” Toby said, pulling on Jim’s arm until he was fully facing both Blinky and Aaarrrgghh. “Nothing to worry about. How long does training usually take?”

Blinky counted on his many fingers. “Decades.”

Jim thought about the bridge, about the Order’s plans. “How long do I have?”

“A day or two,” Blinky said, and Jim thought  _ yeah, that sounds about right  _ and then promptly turned around and banged his head against the bathroom door in a slow and steady rhythm.

In all honesty, he could just kill the Blinky and Aaarrrgghh and wipe his hands clean of this half of the affair. Or at least, that’s what he  _ could’ve  _ done before Toby showed up. But now, the Order will probably want him to play the long game - because they  _ always  _ wanted to play the long game - and play along with the trollhunting business to get an in on Trollmarket.

And it’s not like he could lie about being the Trollhunter. Everyone would find out eventually, especially now that he knew for sure that Blinky and Aaarrrgghh were taking a  _ very  _ proactive role in training him. They would expect him to show his face, to be the hero.

And the Order would expect him to play the part, to be the eventual martyr.

Was a quiet existence too much to ask for?

“Jim,” Barbara called from behind the door. “I have the medicine. Open up.”

“I’m fine, really,” Jim said, despite the fact that he was feeling  _ very  _ far from fine.

“I’m a doctor,” Barbara said, sounding a little exasperated. “I’m going to treat my own son.”

“Isn’t that a conflict in bias?” Jim replied casually, turning around and gesturing in panic down at his armor to Blinky.

Barbara let out a fake laugh. “Very funny, Jim. But seriously, open the door, kiddo.”

“I really just need a little privacy,” Jim said, and Blinky made a vague gesture with his four hands that made absolutely no sense. Jim threw his hands up in frustration, squeezing his eyes shut and controlling his breathing.

“You’re worrying me,” Barbara said, but Jim ignored her, trying to quell his rising anxieties.

When he opened his eyes, the armor was gone, and the amulet fell down from his chest and into his hands. 

Blinky gave him a very excited thumbs up. Jim made a shooing motion with his hands. He watched Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Toby scramble into the bathtub and shield themselves with the shower curtain.

“I’m coming in,” Barbara said, and Jim yanked the door open, stuffing the amulet into his jacket pocket and stepping out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

“Phew, see? All good,” he said, waving his hand in front of his nose.

Barbara examined him for a moment before the tension bled from her shoulders and she ruffled a hand through his hair. “Alright. If you say so.”

She left only a few minutes later, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she did so, and when she was gone, Jim opened up the bathroom door and led his troll-human entourage back downstairs. They watched his mother’s car pull out of the driveway and collectively breathed a sigh of relief.

Jim slouched against the couch and watched Aaarrrgghh attempt to settle himself in the small space, knocking over things on the coffee table and books off the bookshelf. Toby followed after him, picking things up and putting them back only for Aaarrrgghh to knock them over again.

“So,” Blinky said, walking up to Jim and steepling his fingers together, “are you ready to begin? We should start training immediately.”

Aaarrrgghh turned around, his tail swiping Barbara’s favorite magazines off the coffee table, and Jim sighed, pushing himself off the couch and kneeling down to pick up the magazines. “It’s a… school night,” he said, and Blinky frowned.

“I assure you, the relevance escapes me.”

“I’m 15,” Jim said with a shrug. Was that right? It should be right. “I have to stay home, and do homework, and- and study, and stuff. I can’t be out, you know, trollhunting.”

“Because?” Blinky asked, and Jim sighed.

“Well, you know, the whole ‘getting viciously killed by Bular or whoever else’ isn’t really that appealing,” he said, standing up and holding the magazines tight to his chest.

“Dude,” Toby said from across the room, tossing an old VHS tape into Aaarrrgghh’s mouth, “he eats VHS’s!” Jim gave him a thumbs up before replacing the magazines on the table.

“It’s kind of a dealbreaker, actually,” Jim continued to Blinky, who frowned.

“A dealbreaker?”

“I don’t want to die!” Jim exclaimed, throwing his hands up. 

Blinky laughed. “Goodness gracious, who does?”

Jim sighed, biting the inside of his cheek and shaking his head. He took the amulet out of his pocket and held it out to Blinky. “Listen, all I’m saying is that you should take this back.”

He wasn’t even finished with the sentence before Blinky was pushing the amulet back to him, and Jim frowned, trying to force it away from him. “The amulet called to you, Master Jim,” Blinky insisted, and Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes or scream. “It chose you. It is your-”

“Please don’t say destiny,” Jim interrupted, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Sacred obligation,” Blinky tried, and Jim sighed.

“Or that.”

“You can’t refuse it,” Blinky continued. “You can’t take it back. It is yours until you die.”

“And I’d like to get a bit further along in my lifetime before that happens, thank you very much,” Jim said, attempting to slam the amulet into one of Blinky’s hands, but he just pushed the thing back onto Jim.

“Master Jim, you are now responsible for the protection of two worlds, human and troll alike.” Jim turned away from Blinky, gripping the amulet hard in his hands. “If you do not keep the balance, evil trolls like Bular will come into yours and wreak havoc.”

Except that was already happening. He would lose either way.

Everything sucked.

“With the amulet having called to you, it’s only a matter of time before Bular finds out,” Blinky continued. “He will hunt for you, and, whether you are ready for it or not, you will have to face him.”

Jim grit his teeth, looking down at the amulet.

Really, truly; everything sucked.

Toby stepped in, patting a hand on Jim’s arm and turning to Blinky. “I think what Jimbo here needs is just a bit of time to process all this. You know, you laid a lot of heavy stuff on him tonight.” Jim looked gratefully down at Toby despite himself, and Toby gave him a reassuring smile.

Blinky seemed to think for a moment. “Fine, fine,” he finally said. “We shall return tomorrow then, to begin your training.”

“Awesome sauce,” Toby said, and he began to lead Aaarrrgghh out toward the backdoor, feeding him a couple more VHS tapes before beginning the process of pushing him through the threshold. Jim stayed behind, leaning against the wall and glaring down at the amulet.

He was being given a day to-

To what? Face the inevitability?

All he ever wanted was to come to get out of the Darklands, live a nice life in the human world, and do side jobs for the Order every so often just so that he could stay. He didn’t want big responsibility, and he definitely didn’t want to be a hero.

Blinky stepped closer to him, folding his hands together and looking at him gently. “Master Jim, if I may…” He started, and Jim looked up from the amulet, biting on the inside of his cheek to resist saying something rude. “Destiny is a gift. Some go their entire lives living existences of quiet desperation, never learning the truth that what feels as though a burden pushing down upon our shoulders is actually a sense of purpose that lifts us to greater heights.” Blinky paused, curling his hands into fists and gesturing with them as he spoke. “Never forget that fear is but the precursor to valor, that to strive and triumph in the face of fear is what it means to be a hero.” He paused, giving Jim a hearty smile. “Don’t think, Master Jim. Become.”

What drivel.

“Would you at least consider?” Blinky asked, and Jim sighed, pushing himself off the wall, and fist bumping all four of Blinky’s curled hands. Blinky looked down at the motion in confusion, but when Jim gave him a smile, he gave one in return.

Toby and Jim watched the two trolls climb over his backyard fence, and Toby gave Jim a light tap on the shoulder. “How about that, Jim? I bought you a night.”

“A single night,” Jim said dismally, leaning his head against the doorframe.

“Dude,” Toby said, shaking his head, “you’re the one who’s always talking about adventure and something more, or whatever. And now you have it.” He gave a light hearted shrug. “So trolls exist. Who knew?” He walked back into the house, as if maybe twenty minutes before he hadn’t been absolutely losing his mind over the fact.

Jim gave one last long look at his dark backyard before closing the door. He’d only talked about adventure just because he thought that’s what teenage boys did. He wouldn’t have said anything at all if he knew this was how it would end up.

He stared out the window for a moment, just to be safe, and then he deliberately pulled the blinds down and locked the door.

  
  


\---

  
  


No sooner had Jim walked out of his first class of the day did Toby run over and bump him lightly on the shoulder. “So what did you decide?”

“My answer hasn’t changed since the last time you asked an hour ago,” Jim said, gripping the straps of his bag tight in his hands and clenching his teeth.

“No, no, not about the trollhunting stuff or whatever,” Toby said, and Jim glanced around to make sure no one in the general vicinity was listening. “I meant about kicking Steve’s butt.”

“To be honest, Tobes,” Jim said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, “I couldn’t care less about Steve.”

Toby looked down at Jim’s bag, pausing in walking to unzip the outermost pocket and squint at the glowing amulet. “Why is it glowing like that?” he asked, ignoring Jim’s attempts to swat him away.

“How should I know? It didn’t come with an instruction manual,” Jim snapped, muscles tense as he looked around at the curious glances passing students were giving the two of them.

“It’s glowing brighter now,” Toby noted, and Jim barely controlled himself from completely shoving Toby away - and he only did that to stop from causing an even bigger scene.  _ “Oh,  _ do you think that means you’re about to, you know,  _ change?” _

Well, he hadn’t been feeling that, but  _ now  _ he certainly was. He didn’t like the attention - from his peers, from Toby, from the amulet. All of it was making him want to scream, to fight, which of course now meant that the amulet was glowing brighter, he was breathing heavier, there was an itch beneath his skin, a desire for magic, for power, for blood, and  _ shit was that Strickler watching _ -

“We gotta get you someplace that’s not out here!” Toby exclaimed, and he shoved Jim into the boys locker room.

They tumbled onto the ground next to the lockers, and Jim pushed Toby off of him just as the amulet did its work in dressing him in its armor.

Jim looked down at his hands, enclosed in the soft black cloth and capped by shining metal, and he groaned, dropping his hands in his lap and flopping his head back against the lockers.

“So cool, so cool,” Toby said, and Jim shook his head.

“No,  _ not  _ cool,” he said, trying to dig his fingers underneath where the amulet was situated on his chest and pull it off, to no avail. “Why did it do that?”

“Jim, are you in here?” 

_ Strickler. He  _ had  _ been watching. _

Jim grabbed Toby by the front of his shirt. “Keep him out of here,” he hissed, and Toby’s eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“But how do I-?”

“No buts,” Jim interrupted, scrambling off the floor and flinging Toby toward the door. “Just stall.”

“Fine,” Toby huffed, fixing his backpack and smoothing his hair down. Jim ducked behind the lockers as he heard Toby greet Strickler.

Okay, so this was fine.

Except it wasn’t.

He was fairly certain that if the armor wasn’t covering his hands, his palms would be sweaty, and his heart was running a mile a minute. He tried to do whatever he’d done the night before to get the armor off, but it wasn’t working, and he just  _ knew  _ as soon as Strickler found out, everything would get even worse.

He clawed at the amulet.

It glowed brightly, indignant.

He could hear Toby stalling Strickler, badly. Something about Taco Tuesday.

He needed a plan. 

Last night, Blinky said he would give him a day to decide what to do, who to be, but it seemed that Jim no longer had that luxury. He had to make a decision now, and he had to do it fast.

“Any help?” he muttered to the amulet on his chest. 

It did nothing.

The hard way it is.

Jim arranged himself as nonchalantly as he could, propping one foot on top of a bench, leaning down as if fixing the shin guards.

Strickler rounded the corner, and Jim didn’t miss the look of satisfaction and suspicions confirmed that crossed his face before he fixed it into an expression of neutrality. “Jim, I don’t believe that’s proper school attire,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching up, “do you?”

“Oh, yeah, about this,” Jim started, eyes drifting toward the poster for the school play hung up behind Strickler. 

Not that he needed to lie to Strickler. They both knew he’d been caught. This was for Toby’s sake.

“It’s for the play,” Jim finished, taking his foot off the bench and standing up straight.

“Oh!” Toby said, catching on. “Yeah, for the tryouts.”

Strickler narrowed his eyes, his lips quirking up into a barely restrained smile. 

“I’m auditioning,” Jim continued.

“He’s totally going to smoke those tryouts,” Toby said, slipping out from behind Strickler to tap exaggeratedly on the armor. “I mean, just check out his costume. So realistic, right?”

Strickler fixed his expression into one of mild concern. “What about chess?” he asked Jim, and Jim clenched his jaw.

“Doing that too, apparently,” Jim replied through gritted teeth. 

“How ambitious of you,” Strickler said, pulling out his pen and clicking it open and closed. Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “In any case, you better hurry. Auditions end in five minutes.”

For a moment, the three of them stood still. Jim and Strickler watched each other, waiting for what the other would do. It’s not like Jim really wanted to go audition for a play, but he also knew this was one of Strickler’s dumb little tests. 

Seeing if he could play the part.

“Come on, Jim,” Toby said with a laugh, tugging on his arm. “Better hurry now.”

“Right,” Jim said, letting himself get pulled along by Toby. He shot a glare back at Strickler, who grinned at him.

“Break a leg,” he said, waving a hand at him in goodbye. As soon as Toby wasn’t looking, Jim shot back a very choice finger.

  
  


\---

  
  


“I really don’t have to be here,” Jim said, arms crossed as Toby pushed him through the backstage door of the auditorium. 

“Come on, it’d be weird if Strickler found out you didn’t audition after all that,” Toby said. He paused, seeming to think. “Well, I guess you could always tell him you chickened out.”

Jim physically recoiled. “I’d rather die.”

“Auditions it is,” Toby said, he continued pushing him until they were only just hidden from the audience by the curtains. “Oh, hey, we get to watch Claire.”

_ “Give me my Romeo,” _ Claire was saying from her place center stage, brown eyes bright and lifted up to the ceiling.  _ “And when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars,” _ she continued gently, miming the motion of scattering stars beneath her feet. _ “And he will make the face of heaven so fine, that all of the world will be in love with night.” _ She finished with her hands held gracefully over her heart, expression earnest and longing.

There were claps from the crowd, and soft exclamations of her skill, and Jim watched her act break, watched a proud little smile spread across her face. No doubt she’d been practicing those lines for weeks.

Jim scrubbed his face with his hands, glaring down at Toby. “It would’ve been easier to tell Strickler I’m the Trollhunter,” he hissed. “I don’t even know the play.” Toby gave him a shrug as Claire walked toward them, exiting the stage.

“John?” she tried, smiling kindly.

“Jim,” he corrected, and her smile widened just a little bit.

“And here I thought you didn’t like Shakespeare,” she teased, crossing her arms and glancing down at his armor before looking back up at him.

“Oh, no,” he said, resisting the urge to sound sarcastic. “He’s my favorite. I totally love him.”

“That costume is  _ incredible,” _ she said, gesturing down to the armor. “Did you make it?”

“No, he found a magical amulet that makes it,” Toby replied, and Jim stomped lightly on Toby’s foot. Probably not enough to hurt, but definitely enough to convey the idea.

Claire didn’t seem to notice; she laughed. “You’re funny.”

“Yeah, a real comedian, aren’t you?” Jim said, moving in between Claire and Toby and giving him a look. Toby did not look as concerned as Jim wished he did.

From the crowd, he heard the math teacher who was in charge of the play, Ms. Janeth, call out. “Next!”

Claire stood to the side, giving Jim a small smile. “I think that’s your cue.”

Toby gave him a thumbs up.

“Break a leg,” Claire said, way kinder and much more genuine than Strickler.

“I’d prefer that,” Jim muttered under his breath as he walked onstage. The crowd was smaller than he anticipated, but it still made his skin crawl as all eyes focused on him, looked him up and down, assessed him and his shining armor. 

So.

This was happening.

Ms. Janith looked at him through her purple, rectangular glasses, narrowing her eyes at him. “Who are you?” she asked, each word crisp and annunciated. Theoretically, she should know who he was. He had her for algebra. But Jim guessed she liked the drama of it all.

“James Lake Junior,” Jim said.

“And who are you trying out for?”

“Romeo,” Jim responded. He could’ve said one of the minor roles - Mercutio, Tybalt, the priest, whatever. But he really,  _ really  _ didn’t want to be in the play. Trying out for one of the titular roles and failing spectacularly would ensure he could wipe his hands clean of this whole affair.

“Well,” Ms. Janeth said, scribbling his name down on her clipboard, “we are all ears.”

A space of silence followed. A girl in the audience wondered aloud what he was wearing. Jim felt himself bristle, and he glanced over at the wing of the stage, where Toby and Claire were waiting. Toby gave him a thumbs up. Claire smiled at him.

He needed to say something. He couldn’t remember anything from the original play, so that was out, which was just as well. If he wanted to fail, he might as well fail not even touching the subject of Shakespeare.

“Destiny,” Jim started, taking a deep breath. 

At least Blinky’s stupid destiny speech would give him some use.

“Destiny is… a gift.” The amulet made a quiet noise, pulsing brighter, and he frowned down at it. He was only acting; didn’t it know that? “Some go their entire lives living an existence of quiet desperation,” he continued, beginning to pace slowly around the stage, “never learning the truth that what feels as though a burden pushing down upon our shoulders” - he paused here, looking down at his still feet and then up at the rafters of the auditorium, a heavy feeling in his chest - “is actually a sense of purpose that lifts us to greater heights.”

He swallowed, taking his sword out from where it was sheathed behind his back. The meager crowd gasped, and he looked down at the blade, considering it. His small human face stared back at him, almost as if it was considering him right back. He clenched his jaw, tearing his eyes away from the blade and leveling it toward the audience. 

“Never forget that fear is but the precursor to valor, that to strive and triumph in the face of fear is what it…” His voice faltered, his arm lowering the sword. He looked down at the floor, at the world below awaiting him. To strive, to triumph. “To strive and triumph in the face of fear,” he started again, raising his eyes and his sword, “is what it means to be a hero.”

His voice was slow, steady. He was sure. For the moment, he was sure.

“Don’t think,” he said, sheathing the sword, his chest humming, his jaw set. “Become.”

The audience erupted into cheers and applause, and Jim blinked, looking down at the faces seated below him. What were they clapping for? The armor? The sword? Those meager little words?

He could see Claire, sitting a couple seats away from Ms. Janith. She must’ve slipped out from backstage to watch him. There was some sort of glint in her dark eyes, like she could see something bright inside of him, something even he couldn’t see.

She stood up from her chair, walking over to the stage and tucking her hair behind her ear. “Jim, that was incredible,” she said, and Jim kneeled down at the edge of the stage to face her.

“Was it?” he asked, shaking his head a little in confusion. “I didn’t even think about it.” Or practice. Or want to succeed.

But based on the reactions of the audience - and Ms. Janeth - he was definitely getting a part in the play. Morgana, have mercy.

“That’s acting,” Claire said with a little laugh, reaching up and placing a dainty hand on his armored shoulder. She smiled at him, brown eyes gentle and soft, and, despite everything, Jim found himself smiling back.

  
  
  


\---

  
  


“Dude, that was amazing!” Toby said as they rode their bikes through the main street. “You were amazing! I’m amazed at how amazing you were!”

They wove through the construction on the street, and Jim looked up at the sunset sky, letting out a heavy sigh. “I can’t believe that just happened.” He should’ve just pretended to chicken out, Strickler be damned.

“And did you see the way Claire was looking at you?” Toby asked, fixing his helmet strap. “Your armor totally did you a favor!”

“Yeah, well I’m still getting the hang of it,” Jim said, glancing down at his bag, where the amulet was safely tucked away. The moment he’d gotten backstage, the amulet had simply dropped off him, the armor dissipating into nothing.

“The multi-eye guy says it reacts to your emotional state,” Toby said. “The armor turns on when you’re in distress.”

“I wasn’t really in distress back at school,” Jim said, shaking his head. Sure, he’d panicked a little bit, but after the initial freak out with Strickler, he’d been fine. There was no reason the armor should've gone away before he’d gone on stage.

He looked up from the road, and promptly stopped his bike in its tracks, a cold sweat immediately erupting from his palms. “But I am now.”

Bular -  _ freaking Bular -  _ was standing in the middle of the twilit street ahead of them, his hulking figure silhouetted by the quickly darkening sky.

“Trollhunter,” he growled, huge hands curling into fists, “Merlin’s creation.” That wasn’t true at all. “Gunmar’s bane.” He leaned forward, fists connecting with the asphalt, poised as if ready to charge.

Toby leaned over. “I think he’s talking to you.”

Which didn’t make sense. Sure, it had been a while since Jim had gone to any of the meetings between the changelings and Bular and his forces (and by ‘been a while’ he meant basically since he’d been assigned his role as Jim Lake Junior - he’d always received his information through Strickler) but he’d figured that Strickler, rat as he was, would’ve tattled about Jim’s predicament to Bular as soon as he’d found out.

Unless Strickler was keeping his cards close, just like Jim was. And Bular didn’t know.

About how the new Trollhunter was a changeling.

A changeling who was, for the most part, working for him.

There was always the alternative - that Bular  _ did  _ know, and that he didn’t care. Which was fun to think about.

Bular prowled the shadow of the building he was standing in, red eyes piercing through the gloom. He stepped a little too close to the edge of the shadow, his fist connecting with the dying sunlight, and he grunted in pain, snatching his hand away.

“He can’t be in the sun,” Jim told Toby, gesturing his chin to what had just happened.

“That won’t last for long!” Toby cried, and Jim looked around them for an escape route.

“The amulet!” Bular called out to them, careful now of the boundary between shadow and light. “Surrender it, and I will give you a speedy death.” He slammed his fist down on the road, and the ground shook.

“Doesn’t know how to negotiate, this guy,” Toby commented, voice shaking.

“Go, go, go!” Jim said as the shadow Bular was standing in began to lengthen, and he and Toby both veered their bikes to the nearest street, pedaling fast. Behind them, Jim could hear the sounds of Bular’s stone feet slamming into the asphalt in pursuit, and Jim gestured for him and Toby to hide behind a truck parked on the side of the street.

Jim pulled out the amulet from his bag. The thing was a burden and a nightmare in one, but if it could help him now, that would be fine by him.

“Armor up, armor up, please, now, faster!” Toby chanted beside him, and Jim grimaced down at the amulet, which was doing absolutely nothing.

Bular began to wreak havoc to the other cars parked on the street, flinging them away and growling at the empty space they revealed instead of the two humans he thought he was hunting.

“Okay,” Jim said, looking down at the amulet and lifting it up to his face. “For the Glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command.” Nothing happened. “It’s not working. Why, of all times, are you not working?” he hissed. The amulet did nothing. He heard Bular’s steps approaching, and he pulled Toby behind the next truck on the street and shaking the amulet in his hands. “Daylight is mine to command,” he repeated. “Seriously, it’s mine to command. I’m commanding here!”

For the first time since the amulet had cursed his life, he was actually  _ commanding,  _ and  _ this  _ was the reaction he got? Absolutely nothing?

The truck behind them rattled. Fear weighed heavy in the pit of his stomach.

The truck was torn away, and he could practically feel Bular’s breath heavy on his neck.

“Centuries of Trollhunters,” Bular said, a sick grin twisting his features, “and I will have killed two in almost as many days.”

“He’s good at math!” Toby cried, and Jim yelled for them to  _ go.  _

They pedaled away from Bular, and Bular picked up the truck they had previously been hiding behind, chucking it toward them.

“Incoming!” Jim yelled, and he gestured for Toby to turn on the next street, the truck sailing over their heads as they veered away from it.

They were pedalling fast, breath heaving, but it wasn’t fast enough. Bular was already galloping beside them, safe in the shadows on the empty sidewalks. “I’ll flay the flesh from your bones!” he roared, guttural.

“I like my bones the way they are, thanks,” Jim called back.

A shadow stretched into the road, and Bular leaped into it, right between Jim and Toby. He swiped at both of them, but they both managed to duck beneath or veer away from his heaving stone arms.

“Head down Delancey!” Jim yelled at Toby as they swiftly biked away, Bular hot on their tail.

As they fled, Jim tore his eyes around the sleepy streets of Arcadia, cursing the fact that the whole town seemed to have some sort of agreement to be tucked inside their homes as soon as the clock struck six on school nights. He needed a path, some sort of plan to get further away from Bular.

There was a collection of little shops and cafes, and there was Stuart’s Electronics up ahead - and there it was. The path to take.

“Behind Stuart’s Electronics!” Jim called to Toby, immediately heading over.

“You know I can’t fit behind there!” Toby cried, but he was already following behind Jim.

“You’re going to have to,” Jim said, wheeling into the tight alleyway, the walls close by his shoulders.

“I can’t,” Toby said, near close to tears.

“You can! You’ve been on a diet, remember?”

“I can’t fit, I can’t fit, I can’t fit” - Toby’s desperate voice behind him, colored in fear. Jim didn’t waste any time looking behind him, but his chest clenched, his breath catching in his throat. “Wait - I’m fitting, I’m fitting, I fit!”

And then Toby was close behind him again, outside of the alley and into the next street over, Bular growling and beating at the walls with clawed hands fisted in frustration.

Soon they were sailing past the canal, Bular far behind him, and Toby heaved, slowing down.

“Need to… catch my… breath,” he said between pants, and Jim slowed to a stop behind him. “Look at me, look at me,” Toby said, and Jim looked over at him. “We’re not dead, right?”

Before Jim could reply, a voice called out to him - Blinky.

He and Aaarrrgghh were on the side of the road, badly hidden by a cluster of bushes. They were both smiling

“Bular’s trying to kill us,” Jim said, wheeling over to them and glancing back at the empty streets behind him. “He just chased us all over town.”

“And you’re still alive!” Blinky exclaimed, looking very proud of him for this very small achievement. “I knew you had potential, Master Jim.”

“You have a sweet voice, but you bring death with you,” Toby said, still breathing heavily as he pointed an accusing finger at Blinky.

“You guys can fight him, right?” Jim asked, hoping he could get out of getting his ass beaten by his boss.

Blinky and Aaarrrgghh laughed.

“I could not hope to possess the skill to defeat Bular,” Blinky said, waving his hand dismissively. Of course. He  _ did  _ look like a weakling - four relatively thin arms for nothing.

“What about him?” Toby asked, throwing a hand out to Aaarrrgghh. “He’s big.”

Aaarrrgghh shook his head, looking at them both with kind green eyes. “Pacifist,” he said with a little shrug, and Jim’s heart dropped.

“Seriously?”

“Man, such a waste of a hulking brute,” Toby said, patting Aaarrrgghh’s huge arm.

“Thank you,” Aaarrrgghh said, and Jim groaned, wishing there was a wall he could bang his head against.

“This is why there’s a Trollhunter, Master Jim,” Blinky said, as if this should be obvious. He knew the trolls were all weaklings, but were they seriously  _ this  _ weak? Full of useless scholars and pacifists? “Aaarrrgghh renounced the violent path ages ago, so-”

Behind them there was a roar, the sound of stone sliding against asphalt. Blinky blanched.

“Follow me!” he cried, already beginning to run before the words even left his mouth. “We’ll be safe in Heartstone Trollmarket!”

Hearthstone Trollmarket.

Despite the fact that there was a very high chance that Jim was about to be torn to pieces by his boss, his heart leapt.

They began running toward the canal, Jim pedalling fast on his bike. Bular struck at the lampposts, toppling them over like dominos, sparks flying through the night air.

Behind him, Jim heard Toby scream, and he glanced back long enough to see Aaarrrgghh pick Toby up and sling him onto his back, not even missing a beat in his running.

“Master Jim!” Blinky called as they ran, the lip of the canal in sight. “You must don your armor!”

“I’ve been trying!” Jim yelled back, his frustration heavy in his voice. “The amulet hasn’t been listening to me!”

“Did you speak the incantation?” Blinky asked.

“Of course I spoke the stu-” He stopped himself, biting hard at his lip. “I’ve been incanting the crap out of it, and it still hasn’t worked!”

“Just focus and incant, dude!” Toby called from behind them, and Jim felt a little bit like screaming.

They were at the canal now, and Blinky jumped down into it, Aaarrrgghh and Toby close behind. But Jim stopped, compelled by an urge that hardly felt like his own. He let his bike fall to the ground, and he pulled the amulet out of his bag, glancing up at the figure of Bular, tearing through the trees.

“For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command,” Jim said to the amulet, gripping it tight in his hands, knuckles white.

Nothing.

He could hear Bular now, breaths heavy, steps abusing the earth.

“For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command,” he said again, heart racing. 

Nothing.

Bular was ten feet, six feet, four feet away.

Leaves fell from the trees, shaken off by the disturbance of the ground, shivering in the air as they fluttered before Jim. His eyes caught on one, falling slow, and something seemed to click inside of him.

Time slowed. His breaths came easy and even, and he looked down at the incantation inscribed on the thin metal encircling the amulet.

“For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command.”

Bular’s fist struck his chest, and the resounding clang from his stone skin slamming into the metal of the armor rang through Jim’s ears as he sailed through the air, the armor manifesting around him as he flew, as he fell.

He landed on one knee, metal armor scraping against concrete, and he held his hand to the side, the heavy weight of the sword familiar in the palm of his hand. He stood, looking up at where Bular stood on the lip of the canal.

Bular roared.

“Uh, nope,” Jim said, and he ran.

Armor or no, Jim wasn’t particularly interested in being torn apart by Bular.

He sprinted toward where Blinky, Aaarrrgghh, and Toby were waiting beneath the bridge, but Bular leapt into his path, blocking him off.

“Use your sword, Master Jim!” Blinky shouted.

Yeah, no shit.

Except Jim had never really been a fan of swords. Or fighting at all, really. He hadn’t had reason to fight in so long.

“We could talk this out,” Jim offered.

Bular stood to his full height, red eyes piercing and angry. “I’ll drink your blood out of a goblet made out of your skull,” he growled.

Cool, so that’s a no.

Bular  _ had  _ always been known for his hastiness.

“Cut him up like a meatloaf, Jim!” Toby called.

That hardly made any sense, except for the fact that it kind of did. He may not have ever liked swords, but over the years, he’d gotten pretty good at handling knives. And what was a sword if not a big knife?

Bular charged at him, and Jim held his blade steady, easily blocking Bular’s first swing at him. The force of the swing caused him to be flung back at least twenty feet, but at least he was still standing.

Distantly, he heard Blinky commanding for the portal to be opened, but he couldn’t spare a glance as Bular approached him, circling him like a toy, like prey.

“Master Jim! Master Jim!” Blinky called. “Come on!”

So the portal must be open. Except Bular’s eyes were steady on him, watching for any move to flee.

“Little busy here!” Jim called back, clenching his jaw and returning Bular’s watchful gaze.

“You are not fit to wield the amulet,” Bular said, drawing his twin blades. At least that was something they could agree on. “I’ll tear the armor off you! Along with your skin!”

He swung heavy with his right blade, but Jim danced to the side, matching it with a swing of his own. Bular blocked it with his arm, and Jim found that the blade had embedded itself into Bular’s stone skin. He tugged hard, to no avail.

Bular lifted him, snarling in his face. Jim let go of the handle of the sword, just in time for Bular to fling it across the canal. The sword flew through the air before the blade stuck itself into the concrete, the hilt standing straight up into the air. Bular glanced over at it to check where it had gone, and Jim took the opportunity to run to the bridge, to the glowing portal.

“Come on, come on,” Toby said, hand reaching out. He was already halfway through the portal, blue magic and stone swirling around him, but he had stayed - he had stayed to reach for Jim.

Jim stretched out his hand.

Almost there.

The portal was closing.

There was Toby’s hand, still there, still waiting.

Until it wasn’t.

The portal closed, and Jim’s outstretched hand hit solid concrete.

He cursed, slamming his fist against the wall, and then - the cherry on top - the amulet fell from his chest, the armor dissipating into nothing.

“What are you doing?” Jim yelled at it, catching it just before it hit the ground and shaking it in his hands. “Why now?  _ Why are you leaving me to die?”  _

Bular threw his swords, thick rock cutting through concrete, only narrowly missing Jim both times.

And Jim’s back was pressed against the wall, and he was facing his fate.

Bular was running toward him, rage and determination pushing him forward and forward, toward Jim.

Jim closed his eyes.

This was it. 

No one was coming for him.

He wasn’t the trolls’ hero, the Order’s knight, Gunmar’s saving grace.

He was only food, a stain on history.

The wall behind him gave way, and a huge, solid hand wrapped around his middle, pulling him through a curtain of magic.

And then he was behind the wall, the canal gone behind solid rock, and he was standing beside Toby, Blinky, and Aaarrrgghh.

The cavern wall shook with Bular’s rage, and Jim shook with it.

“He almost…” Jim started, his voice weak, breath panting. His mind raced, his heart thundering.

“He almost what? Use your words, Master Jim.”

“He almost  _ killed me!”  _ Jim shouted, throwing his arms out and glaring hard at Blinky. “I was seconds away from being ripped limb from limb!”

“‘Almost’ is a very important word,” Blinky said, lifting a finger and turning around. “A life of ‘almost’ is a life of never!” He did not sound nearly as concerned as he should’ve been.

Jim took a few steadying breaths, trying to resist absolutely losing his cool. Blinky was walking further into the cavern, and Jim reluctantly followed after him.

“Why did the armor suddenly abandon me?” he asked after he’d composed himself.

“Master Jim, you are the first human to possess an amulet crafted for trolls,” Blinky said, and Jim clenched his jaw. “It’s to be expected its behavior will be… unexpected.” He stepped onto a step made of some sort of glowing blue gemstone, and they watched as the glow ran down each of the spiraling gemstone steps, lighting them up from within and casting the cavern in a magical glow.

They followed Blinky down the glowing steps, and Toby marvelled at the rocks. Jim glanced back at the closed portal, wondering where Bular had gone, if he was still slamming his fists against the concrete.

“Are you sure we’re safe in here?” he asked.

“Indeed,” Blinky said. “The incantation forbids entry to Heartstone Trollmarket by GummGumms such as Bular, for they are the most fearsome of trolls.”

“GummGumms?” Toby asked.

“Scary ones,” Aaarrrgghh replied.

“Okay, wait, wait,” Jim said, jumping down the steps until he had caught up to Blinky, who had already reached the bottom of the spiraling gemstone staircase. “So Bular can’t get in here, right?” He gestured to the glowing steps and the cavern above them. “Into Heartstone Trollmarket?”

“No, Master Jim,” Blinky said, four hands gently taking him by the shoulders and turning him around.

Despite himself, he found that his breath caught in his throat at the sight.

It was… beautiful.

The cavern at the bottom of the staircase opened up to a larger space, filled to the brim with glowing crystals and bustling shops. Every ounce of space was lit up with life, trolls living their lives in peace and beauty, the towering mass of the bright orange Hearthstone casting a loving glow on its civilians at the center of this little, vast world.

“This is the world you are sword to protect,” Blinky said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “This is Heartstone Trollmarket.”

Jim looked around at this place, this little pocket of peace, and he felt himself begin to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello how's it going
> 
> i am quickly realizing i dove straight into the deep end in starting this fic and have no choice now except for to fukcign, brushtroke or whatever. this is gonna be A Thing. A Big Thing. A Long Thing. so strap in, folks
> 
> i do have a life, unfortunately, so i can't work on this all the time. i will try and update once a month, but you'll have to forgive me if i don't do that because of the fact that i could be busy doing homework, or, like, wallowing on my shitty dorm room carpet. it happens, ya know? 
> 
> wait i just realized i meant breaststroke in my earlier statement. what the fuck. im so far away from the land of sports. god.
> 
> anyway there's probably typos and crimes against grammar here but it's 2:00am and i have an 8:30 in the morning. i'll fix them when i get the chance tomorrow or maybe a day that is not tomorrow. we'll find out together. 
> 
> (EDIT: i have fixed every typo/crime against grammar that i could find, including the highly embarrassing misspelling of 'enjoy' that was in the beginning notes. god. that was so embarrassing. i swear i can spell enjoy)
> 
> thanks for reading you're the best


	3. Wherefore art Thou, Trollhunter?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When my father fell, the honor should’ve been passed to me.”
> 
> “Alright,” Jim said.
> 
> “It is my right as Kanjigar’s son-”
> 
> “I said alright.”
> 
> or
> 
> destiny is, like, so inconvenient

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy :)

Heartstone Trollmarket glowed before him, safe and filled with life and color, and Jim felt an aching begin in his chest. His smile started to fade. “This… This is your home?”

It had been a long time since he’d seen his own home, the Darklands. Almost sixteen years - but the memory of it hadn’t faded even in the slightest. The cold, the damp, the cruelty of it all. He’d been so young, but he’d had to fight to survive each day. The yellow sunlight of the human world had felt like a blessing, some sort of divine reward for kissing ass to Gumm-Gumms who couldn’t care less about his life or his death.

Now the yellow light of the heartstone felt like a spit in the face.

“Trollmarket is home and hearth and sanctuary for all good trolls,” Blinky said as they walked down the stairs toward Trollmarket. Jim swallowed down the jet black feeling crowding up his throat.

“And here I thought the only thing underneath the city was sewers and plumbing,” Toby said, with a little shake of his head as he passed Jim down the stairs.

“Right,” Jim replied hallowly. He cast his eyes over the scene below him, admiring and hating the life and glow of it all for one last moment before forcing himself to swallow his bitterness down and follow after Blinky and Toby.

“Stay close,” Blinky said as they walked through the main street of the market. “Human feet have never graced the grounds of Trollmarket before.” 

As they walked, trolls stopped in their tracks and did double takes at the sight of Jim and Toby. Jim started to feel his skin itch, his feet begging to take him far, far away. He didn’t belong here, not in this place of warmth and comfort and community.

They passed by restaurants with dead cats as the main course, carving shops in the middle of chiseling out a design on hardened troll skin, curio shops selling human objects as knick knacks. Toby looked around at it all in wonder, snapping pictures with his phone - which, logically, probably wasn’t best. But Jim didn’t say anything about it, following after Blinky and Aaarrrgghh and nodding along to Toby’s exclamations.

“Check it out!” Toby said, pulling on Jim’s sleeve and pointing at the different gems hanging from the cavern ceiling. “Peridot, topaz, cassiterite!” He approached a large troll, getting his face up close to the troll’s arm and focusing his shining eyes on the stone of his arm. “Oh, and Kornerupine!” 

“Toby,” Jim said, nudging him, and Toby looked up, making eye contact with the troll.

The troll glared at him.

Toby swallowed.

“Hi,” he said, and then Jim pulled him away.

“Your knowledge of minerals is almost troll-like, Tobias,” Blinky said, and Toby gave a small shrug.

“What can I say?” he said. “I have hobbies.”

“So your kind,” Jim said, looking around at all the trolls and fighting to look relaxed. “You all live here?”

“Trolls travel from afar to our market to find comfort and remedies,” Blinky said, smiling kindly at him. “You’ll find most anything you need, and sometimes you’ll find what you never knew you needed.”

As Blinky spoke, Jim felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise. He turned his eyes to the feeling, catching sight of a large blue troll in an alcove, glowing orange eyes watching him as he passed. When their eyes bet, the troll bared his teeth and growled. Jim clenched his jaw and turned forward once more.

A little gnome scuttled over Jim’s feet, and Jim kicked it to the side, his lip curling up in disgust. 

“Wait, what the heck is that?” Toby asked, bending down toward the ground and leaning toward one of the little gnomes. “Aw, hey little guy!” he said, reaching a finger toward the little gnome. “That’s a cute pointy hat.” The gnome bared its teeth, and Toby shrieked. “And pointy teeth!” he exclaimed as he jumped away from the gnome.

“Get away!” Blinky shouted, stomping his feet in an attempt to smash the gnomes, or something. Regardless of what his intentions were, he was failing, seeing as the gnomes simply scuttered around and laughed. “Vile vermin! Be gone!”

The gnomes finally made their retreat - most likely from boredom - and Toby stared after them. “What were those things?”

“Gnomes are vermin,” Blinky said, brushing off his hands and scowling at where the gnomes had run off to. “Pickpockets, scum of the earth! We only tolerate them for their grooming services.” He gestured to Aaarrrgghh, where a little gnome had jumped onto the long green hair growing on his back. “They eat parasites on larger trolls.”

“Weird,” Toby said as Aaarrrgghh flicked the troll off.

Jim turned away, looking up at the huge glowing Heartstone. He shook his head, letting out a little sigh. “Amazing,” he said, walking to the thick stone guard rail at the end of the street and placing his hand on the cool stone. Below him, Trollmarket continued on in its life, but at eye-level and extending above toward the high ceilings of the cavern stood the Heartstone, regal and alive.

Toby, Blinky, Aaarrrgghh came to stand beside him, looking up at the Heartstone.

“Heartstone,” Aaarrrgghh said as means of explanation, and Jim nodded.

“The lifeforce of trollkind,” Blinky said, voice reverent. “The means that keeps us from crumbling to stone, and the source of light and sustenance.”

“Okay, that’s totally the bomb,” Toby said, grinning over at Jim. He tried his best to offer a smile in return, his eyes going back to the Heartstone. 

How much power did a stone like that hold? What would it do, bright, warm, loving, in the Darklands? How many lives would it save? How many would kill just to be in its presence?

The moment was broken by the growing crowd of curious and furious trolls around them, all asking and demanding to know why there were two humans in their precious little sanctuary. If only they knew that one of the little humans they so hated the look of was really a dirty changeling. Jim resisted the urge to sneer.

“I think we’ve attracted the paparazzi,” Toby said as Blinky stepped between them and the crowd of trolls.

“Friends, there is no need to be afraid,” he started, gesturing proudly to Jim. “In fact, this boy is the Trollhun-”

“What is the meaning of this?” interrupted a gruff voice pushing through the crowd. That same blue troll from before, hulking and sharp, had spoken, orange eyes hard on Jim.

“I was just getting to that, Draal,” Blinky said, seeming to go through great efforts to keep his voice steady. But by the way he backed away at the sight of the blue troll - Draal - it was clear who would win in a fight.

“Human feet have never sullied the ground of Trollmarket before,” Draal snarled, curling his lip up at Jim. He stepped closer, using his hulking height to try to intimidate him. Jim glared at him, curling his fingers into fists and lifting his chin. A spark of confusion lit behind Draal’s eyes, but he seemed to stamp it down in favor of continuing to glower down at Jim. “Who are these fleshbags?”

“Believe it or not,” Blinky said, looking down at his four hands and clicking his fingers together, “he is, um… How do I put this? Our new Trollhunter.”

The entire crowd gasped.

“He can’t be the Trollhunter,” Draal shouted, looking past Jim to glare at Blinky. “He’s not a troll!” He slammed his fists on the ground, right beside either one of Jim’s feet, and Jim jumped backward, his back hitting the hard stone of Aaarrrgghh’s arms.

“Amulet chose,” Aaarrrgghh said to Draal, and Draal let out a roar in response. He was honestly no better than a child throwing a tantrum.

“Try to remain calm,” Blinky said from behind Aaarrrgghh. “Destiny is just-”

“Show him, Jimbo!” called Toby, from where he was hiding behind Blinky.

“I’d rather not,” Jim said, but Aaarrrgghh nudged him encouragingly. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Jim took the amulet out of his jacket pocket, letting out a sigh before starting the incantation. “For the glory of Merlin, Daylight is mine to command.”

The hands on the amulet clicked comfortably, and then he was cloaked in the shining silver armor, a cloud of blue magic dissipating around him. Something in Draal’s face hardened.

Jim smiled at him. “Pretty cool, right?”

_ “Bushigal,”  _ Draal said. “I am Draal, son of Kanjigar and the amulet’s rightful heir.” He pounded his fist to his chest in pride.

Son of Kanjigar - the last Trollhunter. The one that died in the canal.

So he  _ was  _ just a child throwing a tantrum. Poor little daddy’s boy didn’t get the sacred amulet, and now he was throwing a fit.

“Ooh,” Toby said, wincing. “I can see how this can be a problem.”

“When my father fell,” Draal continued, ignoring Toby, “the honor should’ve been passed to me.”

“Alright,” Jim said.

“It is my right as Kanjigar’s son-”

“I said alright,” Jim interrupted. Draal stopped, narrowing his eyes at him.

“What?”

“Go ahead,” Jim said, gesturing to where the amulet pulsed on his chest. “Take it.” It’s not like he wanted it anyway.

“What are you playing at, fleshbag?” Draal asked, and Jim shrugged.

“You want it so bad. You said it’s your honor, right, whatever. So just take it.”

“Master Jim-”

“Dude, what are you doing?” Toby asked. Jim didn’t reply, simply waiting for what Draal would do.

Draal looked around at the crowd, at Blinky, and then finally back at Jim. He still looked suspicious, but he must’ve seen something on Jim’s face that made him reach his bulky hand out, large fingers trying to pry the amulet from the armor.

A flash of magic propelled Jim off his feet, pushing him through the air and slamming into Aaarrrgghh’s hands with a grunt. Draal landed twenty feet away, and he stared hard at Jim as if trying to understand him.

“Amulet chose,” Aaarrrgghh repeated, placing Jim gently down on the ground, and Jim clenched his jaw, looking down at where the amulet was still safely nestled in the armor. 

“We’ll see what Vendel has to say about this,” Draal said as he stood up, eyeing Jim the whole time.

“Feel free to fetch him,” Blinky said, gesturing for the others to follow him as he walked past Draal. “In the meanwhile, there’s lots of Trollhunter business to be done.” He turned one last time to smile at Draal. “Wonderful to see you as always, Draal.”

Jim passed by Draal, and he offered him a shrug and a little laugh that he knew would piss him off. Sure enough, Draal glared and growled back at him. 

As they moved to the next part of Trollmarket, Toby slowed down his eager steps to walk beside Jim. “What was that back there, Jimbo?”

“What do you mean?” Jim asked, looking at Toby out of the corner of his eye and knowing exactly what he meant.

“With that big scary troll guy. I mean, would you really have given up the amulet if he could’ve taken it from you?”

_ Yes. In a heartbeat, yes.  _

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I felt bad for the guy. I mean, his dad just died. I figured he could at least try.” 

“Oh,” Toby said, looking down at the ground. “I guess that makes sense.”

They continued walking, Toby marvelling at the gems and rocks of Trollmarket, and then the armor was disappearing in a flash. Jim only just managed to catch the amulet in his hands.

“Whoa, did you make it do that?” Toby asked, and Jim shook his head, frowning down at the amulet.

“The amulet responded to your unconscious demand,” Blinky explained. “You are at ease, are you not?”

Jim looked down at the amulet, considering the situation. He was a changeling - a fact no one in this party knew of - working for Bular and the Order who was standing in the middle of a den of trolls who would kill him in a heartbeat if they knew who he was. “I mean. I guess.”

“It senses that,” Blinky said, smiling at him. “You are beginning to master it.”

Yeah, right.

The tunnel they were walking in opened up to a large cavern with a thin rock bridge connecting the tunnel to an amphitheater of sorts; the walls were high with long slits carved into them, leading up to looming statues of stern trolls that looked over the arena, which had intricate geometric carvings tracing along the floor.

“This is the Hero’s Forge,” Blinky said as they walked along the bridge.

Toby walked over to the edge of the thin bridge, looking down at the dark depths below and pulling out his phone to take a picture. Jim snuck behind him, grabbing his shoulders and pretending to throw him off before quickly pulling him back. Toby yelped, and Jim laughed, leading him toward the center of the bridge.

“Don’t do that again,” Toby said, swatting at Jim, but Jim just patted him on the shoulder.

“Come on - the Hero’s Forge awaits,” he said, wiggling his fingers mysteriously. Toby’s annoyed look melted into a smile.

They stepped onto the arena, and Jim looked around at the looming structure of the Forge.  _ “Magnifico,”  _ he said under his breath, unable to help himself, and then he frowned at the statues of the trolls looking down at the arena. “Wait, are those…?”

“Trollhunters,” Aaarrrgghh said, and Jim winced.

“Your predecessors, Master Jim,” Toby said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “A line of heroism that reaches back to the age of Merlin.” He pointed to an empty pedestal above the arena. “That will be the place of final repose for Kanjigar the Courageous. One day, there will be a statue of you here, Master Jim.”

Jim made a face.

“One day very far in the future, of course,” Blinky hurriedly added.

“So, like, there’s one thing I’m not getting,” Toby said, and Jim raised his eyebrows.

“Just one?”

“You guys are trolls, right?” Toby continued, gesturing to Blinky and Aaarrrgghh. “So, ‘Trollhunter’ sounds a little bit like you hunt yourselves, you know?”

“Hunt bad trolls,” Aaarrrgghh said, patting Jim hard on the back - hard enough to make him stumble forward. “Gumm-Gumms.”

Jim groaned, looking back at Aaarrrgghh. “Not exactly the most terrifying name, I must say.”

“In Trollspeak, ‘Gumm-Gumm’ means ‘bringer of horrible, slow, painful, and thoroughly calculated death.’”

“Oh. The more you know,” Jim said, and Aaarrrgghh gave him another hard pat on the back.

“But do not be concerned, Master Jim,” Blinky continued, slipping into a lecture. “The Gumm-Gumms were exiled to the Darklands centuries ago. Only one roams free now.”

Plus a horde of changelings, but Jim figured Blinky didn’t want to bring up unsavory topics with newcomers.

“And wants to kill you,” Aaarrrgghh supplied, and Jim nodded.

“Very helpful, thank you.”

“Wait, Bular is one of the unspeakably evil trolls?” Toby asked, as if twenty minutes prior they hadn’t almost been steamrolled by Bular and his huge, evil fists. 

“Indeed,” Blinky said, nodding sagely. “His father and the rest of their number remain exiled in the Darklands, but they have been trying to escape for centuries.” And, according to recent reports from the Order, they were pretty close. “I sense ill times are upon us,” Blinky continued. “Hence the need for us to begin Master Jim’s training now.”

He walked over to a set of stairs at the edge of the arena, placing his hand on a protruding lump of circular stone. He looked back at the rest of them, clearing his throat. “Ah, step back now.”

The three of them look at each other. They stepped back.

Blinky hummed, looking over them carefully. “A little further, Tobias.”

Toby dutifully stepped back.

“Oh, very well,” Blinky said, which was really comforting, and then he slammed one of his hands on the bump of stone on the wall - which, as it turned out, was a button.

As soon as the button was pressed, long levers with sharpened blades attached to them swung out from the slits in the wall, and Jim, Toby and Aaarrrgghh scattered in an effort to avoid the huge swinging blades. Jim dived to the ground, looking up just in time to see another blade swinging fast toward him.

“Oh, no,” he said, rolling out of the way just in time for it to slice the air next to him. There was a rumbling beneath him, and he looked down at the ground to see that the intricate carvings he’d first noticed were, in fact, more slats for blades to swing out from. He scrambled away from where a blade had erupted right where his face had been, getting on his feet and running toward the edge of the arena, pressing his back against the wall.

“Excellent reflexes, Master Jim,” Blinky praised, and Jim shot him a glare, his breathing coming hard.

“Yeah, that’s great and all, but couldn’t we start out with something easier? Something less likely to  _ kill us?”  _

From the edge of the arena came a booming, though slightly nasally, voice. “Blinkous Galadrigal.”

Blinky scrambled, hurriedly pressing the button to make the swinging blades disappear back into their designated slats.

Once the blades were out of the way, Jim could see the large figure of an old troll walking onto the arena, bone white with cloudy eyes and gemstones hanging from his waist. “Blinkous Galadrigal,” he repeated, and Blinky winced.

_ “That’s  _ your full name?” Jim asked with a small snort, and Blinky sighed.

“Horrible, isn’t it?”

The bone white troll stepped closer at his own leisurely pace until he was standing before the four of them, large hands clasped behind his back. “I wish to meet the fleshbag supposedly chosen by the amulet,” he said, looking between the four of them before zeroing in on Toby with his round, milky eyes. “I am Vendel, son of Rundle, son of Kilfred,” he said, bending nearly all the way over to look Toby in the eyes.

“Uhh… Toby, son of Ralph. I live with my Nana,” Toby said, raising a hand to gesture to himself. Vendel took Toby’s hand in his, examining it closely before raising him by the arm and poking at his stomach.

“Produce the amulet, Trollhunter,” he said, dropping Toby and rummaging through his pockets with surprisingly deft fingers and finding Toby’s phone, which he promptly smashed between his thumb and forefinger. Jim swallowed a laugh.

“I think I’m the fleshbag you’re looking for,” Jim said as Toby lamented his phone, pulling the amulet out of his pocket to show to Vendel.

Aaarrrgghh came up beside him, pointing a finger at Jim and looking at Vendel. “Amulet chose,” he said, which seemed to be his favorite phrase for the night.

“Hmm,” Vendel said, looking at Jim distastefully. “So Draal tells me. Ridiculous,” he said, brushing off the remnants of Toby’s phone from his hands before walking over to Jim and leaning down to look at him closely. “However, the amulet has been known to make ill-fated choices” - he turned to look at Blinky, who very quickly looked away - “as you know better than most.”

Jim raised an eyebrow, leaning over to Aaarrrgghh. “What’s that mean?”

“Blinky trained Trollhunter before,” Aaarrrgghh said softly, pointing up at a statue of a troll who seemed to be in the middle of cowering in fear. “Unkar the Unfortunate.”

“Why was he unfortunate?”

“First night out, torn,” Aaarrrgghh said, and Jim raised an eyebrow.

“Like, conflicted?”

Aaarrrgghh shook his head, miming tearing a body apart. “No. Limb from limb.”

“Ah.” So that’s cool. Jim was getting trained by the same guy who trained a guy so badly he got murdered his first night out. That was reassuring.

“If the amulet chose true,” Vendel said, standing back from the group, “the Soothscryer will reveal it.”

“Please! Master Jim hasn’t had even an hour’s worth of training!” Blinky protested, but Vendel simply shook his head, gesturing for Jim to stand in front of him.

Jim took a deep breath, walking over to Vendel. Whatever the Soothscryer was, he hoped it pronounced him unfit to be the Trollhunter. Hopefully then it could wipe his hands clean of this whole affair.

Vendel pointed at huge troll feet carved into the ground, meaning for Jim to place his own feet there. Jim did so, his human feet puny in comparison to the carvings. The amulet in his hand made a small noise, and then the carvings on the ground glowed red.

A huge stone monolith erupted from the middle of the carvings, spinning up from the ground before settling into place facing Jim. It was sculpted into the face of a troll at the top, and its six burning red eyes glowered down at him. Its mouth dropped open, revealing circular rows of sharp, pointed teeth.

“Behold,” Vendel said, “the Soothscryer!” Jim looked back at him, wondering if it was too late to run. “It will judge your true spirit. Insert your right hand, Trollhunter.”

Jim looked back at the rows of teeth in the unforgiving stone mouth. “Um, I’m going to get it back, right?”

“That is part of the test,” Vendel said, which didn’t do much to inspire confidence, especially since Jim wanted to  _ fail  _ the test.

“Great,” Jim said, looking back up at the mouth of the Soothscryer. It was several feet above him, and he gripped his hands on the ledge, beginning to try and haul himself up.

“Here, I got you, Jimbo,” Toby said, running over and getting on all fours at the base of the Soothscryer.

“Thanks, Tobes,” Jim said, and he carefully climbed onto Toby’s back, standing up straight and facing the Soothscryer in the mouth.

The teeth began to spin.

Once again, Jim considered running.

But everyone was watching him - he wouldn’t make it far.

He swallowed and reached his hand into the Soothscryer. 

Before his fingers could even get close to the teeth, the mouth clamped shut onto his arm. Despite himself, Jim screamed, trying to pull his arm free from the stone lips to no avail.

Within seconds, though, the Soothscryer’s mouth opened, and Jim fell, falling over Toby with his back slamming into the ground. He looked at his arm, which was -  _ thank Morgana -  _ fully intact.

“I’m okay,” Jim said with a sigh of relief, looking up at Vendel. Toby squirmed beneath him, letting out a groan.

“Ooh, everything hurts- but what does that mean?” he asked, gesturing to Jim’s arm. “Did he pass?”

Vendel stared at the gaping maw of the Soothscryer, letting out a contemplative hum. “Inconclusive,” he finally said. He turned and began to walk away.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jim said, trying to get to his feet. “What does ‘inconclusive’ mean?”

“It means, Trollhunter, that there’s never been a human to bear the mantle before,” Vendel said without turning around. He paused for a moment before looking back at Jim, face unreadable. “It means the Soothscryer needs more time to render its judgement. Let us all hope you live long enough to see.”

He walked slowly out of the arena.

Jim flopped back onto Toby, looking down at the arm that had just been in the Soothscryer. He almost wished he’d lost it.

  
  


\---

  
  


“I can’t believe I’ve gotten myself into all this,” Jim said as he and Toby rolled their bikes home; they’d picked them up by the canal after leaving Trollmarket, along with their backpacks, which were thankfully mostly unharmed.

“You mean the trolls, the cool underground city, the indigenous gemforms, and Heartstone?” Toby asked, sounding as if all of those things were really cool and not a detriment to Jim’s health. “You’ve gotten yourself into total awsome-mania, man!” he said, nudging Jim with his elbow.

“Right,” Jim said, giving Toby a look.  _ “If  _ I survive.”

“Come on,” Toby said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. Not for the first time, Jim was struck by Toby’s apparently astounding ability to cope. “You’re going to be trained by the best! Blinky is-”

“His last guy got torn  _ limb from limb,”  _ Jim interrupted. “On his first night.”

Toby stretched his lips out, sucking a breath in through his teeth and looking forward toward their houses at the end of the street. He was quiet for a moment. “So there’s nowhere to go but up,” he finally said.

“Dude-”

“Oh, no! Your mom’s home,” Toby said, gesturing to Barbara’s car in the driveway - right next to another, unfortunately familiar, car. “Okay, quick - here’s our cover story. I was bike-jacked by three- no, make it seven- members of the Bratva - that’s the Russian mob. And then, you broke into their hideout to try to save me-”

“Or I could just tell her your bike got hit by a car, but you’re totally fine,” Jim interrupted, and Toby closed his mouth, looking a little disgruntled.

“That works, too, I guess,” he said, and Jim laughed.

“Night, Tobes,” he said, giving Toby one last goodbye before walking over to his house. He left his bike by the garage and then walked over to the front door, taking a moment to steady himself before opening up the door.

He tried to sneak up the stairs just because he  _ really  _ wanted to avoid any sort of extra difficult conversations that night, but his mom called him from the kitchen, and he sighed.

“Hey, Mom,” he said, putting on a layer of joviality to his voice. “Man, you wouldn’t believe what happened earlier. Toby’s bike-”

“Look who stopped by,” Barbara said, holding a tea kettle, and smiling at him. Jim clenched his jaw.

“Hello, Jim,” Strickler said from where he was sitting at the bar, stupid face smug.

“Mr. Strickler,” Jim greeted through clenched teeth, smiling bitterly.

“Mr. Strickler came by to congratulate you,” Barbara said, pouring hot water into two waiting tea cups on the bar before setting the kettle aside.

“How nice of him,” Jim said, shooting Strickler a glare as soon as Barbara turned around to grab the milk.

“It’s a great honor that you’ve been chosen to wield this mantle,” Strickler said, eyes glittering, and Jim felt his hands curl into fists. “I’ve no doubt that you’ll prove equal to the task.”

“Sure,” Jim said, crossing his arms and glancing over at Barbara. “And what mantle exactly are we talking about?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were trying out for  _ Romeo and Juliet?”  _ Barbara asked, pouring milk into the tea.

Morgana have mercy, he’d nearly forgotten about those stupid tryouts. 

“Jim, surely you knew you’d won the part of Romeo,” Strickler said, picking up his tea cup and taking a sip innocently. He made a face down at the tea, swallowing thickly and putting the tea cup back down.

Of course he’d gotten the part. He was one minor inconvenience away from running away from this life and getting a job at a Denny’s in Alaska.

“I was just remarking to your mother that I’m a touch concerned about your being so spread thin,” Strickler continued, putting on that disgustingly genuine voice he used for all the other students, “particularly in light of your new commitment to the chess club.”

“And I didn’t even think you knew how to play chess,” Barbara said with a little laugh, bright expression overcome with pride. “Chess, acting… It’s like you have this whole secret life I know nothing about.”

“You have no idea,” Jim said kindly to his mother, eyes flicking to Strickler.

“Atlas, too, carried the weight of the world on his shoulders,” Strickler said, tracing the lip of his tea cup with his fingertip, “and I’m concerned, like him, that you’re overextending yourself.”

“I can handle it,” Jim said, only just managing to keep himself from snapping.

“A few days ago, you were falling asleep in class,” Strickler said in his syrupy sweet concerned teacher voice, his eyes glittering with mirth. 

Barbara startled, her eyes widening. “Wait, what- oh!” She’d spilled a bit of her tea and hurried to clean it up, turning around to fetch a towel. Jim curled his lip up at Strickler. Strickler grinned.

“Yeah, but now I’m recharged and ready to go,” Jim assured Barbara as she wiped down the mess. “‘To be or not to be,’ right?”

“Jim,” Barbara said with a fond little smile, “that’s  _ Hamlet.”  _ She turned to Strickler. “More tea?”

“Thanks,” Strickler said, shaking his head and beginning to stand, “but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” As if he ever had any welcome. He pulled out a stray piece of paper and a pen from his suit jacket pocket, scribbling down something on the paper before handing it to Barbara. “My phone, Mrs. Lake.”

“Please, just call me Barbara,” she said, and Strickler took her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

“Barbara, then,” he said with a disgustingly smooth smile. “Delighted to meet you.” Jim swallowed down the bile in his throat.

“I’ll walk him out,” he said, ushering Strickler out the front door. When they were safely outside on the front porch, Jim took a quick look around before turning back to Strickler and scowling. “Stay away from her.”

Strickler clicked his tongue. “Oh, Jim, I’m only a concerned teacher making a house call for one of my beloved students.”

“Concerned teacher my ass,” Jim said, rolling his eyes. “I know you know. So just spit it out.”

Giving Jim an annoying smile, Strickler leaned against the wall of the house and crossed his arms. “How does it feel to be the first non-troll Trollhunter?” he asked, and Jim leaned against one of the pillars of the porch, frowning out at the empty street.

“Like shit.”

“I imagine the Order was thrilled when you informed them,” Strickler said, picking at his nails. “Have they already compiled their 200-point plan on infiltrating Trollmarket and taking the Heartstone?”

Jim dug his hands into his pockets. “I haven’t told them.”

Strickler’s eyes snapped over to him. “What?”

“And I’ve already been to Trollmarket.”

“You  _ what?”  _ Strickler pushed himself off the wall advancing on Jim. He held his ground, looking away from the street and meeting Strickler’s eyes. “What are you playing at, Young Atlas?”

Leave it up to pretentious Strickler to come up with a pretentious nickname.

“I’m not playing at  _ anything,”  _ Jim snapped, rolling his eyes. “At least, not yet.”

“Well, you better  _ figure out _ what game you’re playing soon, because there’s no telling what the Order will do when they find out what you’ve been hiding - let alone what Bular will do,” Strickler said, narrowing his eyes at him, and Jim let out a strong sigh, pushing Strickler away from him and walking to the other side of the porch.

“You don’t think I know that? That’s  _ why  _ I haven’t told anybody.” He shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “Just earlier tonight, Bular tried making toothpicks out of my bones and a goblet out of my skull, or whatever, no questions asked. And - forgive me for assuming - but I get the feeling he would do the same even if he knew what I was.”

Strickler flicked his eyes to the side. “He wouldn’t-”

“No,” Jim interrupted with a bitter laugh. “See, you’re lying. You know him better than I do - you’ve had to work with him closely throughout the years, and you  _ know  _ that I’m right.” Strickler pinched the bridge of his nose, letting out a sigh. “And as for the Order, they’re going to want me to be their little puppet, and they’re going to want me to die for their cause.”

“You  _ are  _ their puppet,” Strickler retorted, obviously struggling to keep his voice down. “We  _ both  _ are. And don’t act like the Order’s cause isn’t  _ your  _ cause as well. You  _ should  _ be willing to die for it, but you’re just too inexperienced-”

“Are  _ you?” _ Jim said, and Strickler stopped.

“Am I what?”

Jim raised his chin up, crossing his arms. “Their willing puppet. Ready to die for their cause.”

They stared at each other for a long moment.

Finally Strickler dragged a hand over his face, looking up at the night sky and letting out a sigh. “I won’t say anything.” He paused, giving Jim a look.  _ “For now.  _ But as soon as it looks like anything’s about to blow up in our faces, I  _ will _ sell you out.”

“Whatever,” Jim said. That much was to be expected. It was a miracle Strickler had agreed to keep quiet for even just a little longer.

“Good luck not getting killed by Bular,” Strickler said, offering one last wave before retreating to his car.

Jim took a deep breath, letting it out as he walked back into the house. His mother was still in the kitchen, starting dinner. When she saw he’d come back in, she smiled, setting down the spatula. “Your teacher really likes you,” she said, and Jim let out a little laugh.

“Yeah, right.”

“I’ve never seen a teacher take such an interest before,” she said looking back down at the pan, which held some sort of black substance. She frowned. “And he has a point. There are only so many hours in the day, Jim.” He joined her in the kitchen, and she turned to him, placing her hands on his shoulders. “If your grades slip, even a little, I’m going to insist you cut back - starting with the things you do for me.”

Jim eased her hands off his shoulders, taking the pan off the stove and scraping the no doubt inedible substance into the garbage can. “I  _ like  _ taking care of you.”

Barbara watched him, letting out a little sigh. “Except that it’s supposed to be my job to take care of you.”

Placing the pan in the sink to be washed, Jim looked back at her, taking in her troubled expression. He took a deep breath, smiling gently at her. “Do you know when I was old enough to ask about Dad, remember what you told me?” She held her arms around herself, nodding softly. “You said, ‘we just have to take care of each other.’ That’s all I’m doing, Mom.”

She let out a breath, taking him in her arms and pressing a kiss to his head. Jim relaxed into her embrace, letting himself be held.

When she pulled away, she brushed the hair out of his face, smiling down at him. “You must be starving. I was trying to make breakfast for dinner, but…” She trailed off, looking at the pan in the sink.

“Here,” Jim said, turning around and beginning to scrub off the pan. “Let’s do it together.”

  
  


\---

  
  


“The Trollhunter lives and dies by three rules,” Blinky said as he circled Jim, arms clasped behind his back. Jim held his form, fingers flexing on the hilt of his sword as he stared at the walls of the Forge. “Rule number one,” Blinky said, coming up to Jim’s side and holding up a singular finger. “Always be afraid.” 

Jim felt his stance falter. He frowned. “Afraid?”

“Be afraid,” Aaarrrgghh repeated from where he and Toby were sitting at the edge of the Forge.

Well, he supposed that made sense. Trolls were known for being huge cowards, and at least this rule would be easy to follow. “I guess I can handle tha- whoa!” He ducked just in time for a rock to go sailing over the air where his head had been not even a second before, the rock landing snugly in Aaarrrgghh’s fist. He turned back to Blinky, eyes wide, but Blinky just grinned.

“See? Fear is good,” Blinky said. “Keeps us alert. Keeps us on guard. Makes us vigilant.” He threw two more rocks at Jim, and Jim quickly ducked out of the way of both of them. “A hero is not he who is fearless, but he who is not stopped by it,” he finished, and Jim blinked.

Surprisingly, that seemed to be good advice. He resumed his stance, steadying his blade. “Got it.”

“Rule number two,” Blinky continued. “Always finish the fight.” He continued his circling around Jim, but instead of staying still, Jim moved so that Blinky was always in front of him. “An opponent must be given no mercy.” Blinky hurled another rock at him, and Jim dodged it deftly, blocking the other five-six-seven rocks Blinky threw at him with his sword.

“Okay, enough with the rocks already,” Jim said, shooting Blinky - who looked like he was having  _ way  _ too much fun - a look. “And what do you mean by ‘finish the fight?’”

Something struck the back of his armor, and Jim stumbled forward, glaring down at the rock that Aaarrrgghh had thrown at him. “Kill,” Aaarrrgghh said, and Jim raised his eyebrows.

“Indeed,” Blinky said with a sage nod of his head. “The Trollhunter must always vanquish his opponent through death.”

“Dude, that’s harsh,” Toby said, and Blinky nodded again.

“Ours is an unforgiving world, Toby D.,” Blinky said before turning back to Jim. “Hence, the third rule: when in doubt, always kick them in the gronk-nuks.”

“The gronk-nuks?” Jim asked, incredulous, and Blinky stopped twice on the ground. A blade came swinging out of a slat in the wall, embedding its sharp point in the ground right between Jim’s feet. Jim swallowed. “Right.” The blade retracted, and Jim relaxed, looking back at Blinky. “So, basically, you’re saying that  _ one third  _ of being a Trollhunter is kicking someone in the nards.”

Before Blinky could reply, a voice sounded from one of the large doorways carved into the walls of the Forge. “Ah, so the Trollhunter’s training begins,” Draal said, sauntering onto the arena with his arms spread wide. His voice was sweet in the way Jim knew was fake, and there was a gleam in his eye like he was asking for a fight. Jim’s grip on his sword tightened. “I thought the great Trollhunter might accept my services as a sparring partner.” He turned his orange eyes to Blinky. “Part of his training regiment, isn’t it?”

“In due time, perhaps-” Blinky tried to say, only to be interrupted by Vendel, who was standing on one of the balconies overlooking the arena, arms clasped behind his back.

“Why wait?” he asked, smiling down at them. “I am eager to see your charge demonstrate his mettle.”

“I’m still working on the whole ‘mettle’ part,” Jim said, sliding a smile on his face as he looked up at Vendel.

Vendel laughed, not unkindly. “Let them spar,” he said to Blinky, and Draal grinned.

“No harm in it,” he said, and Blinky seemed to clench his jaw, beginning to walk to the edge of the arena.

Jim followed after him. “Wait, I’m really going to fight him?”

“Hit him as hard as you can,” Blinky said, and Jim shook his head.

“I really don’t think you want that,” Jim said, and Blinky turned around, raising his eyebrows at him. Jim hurried on. “I-I mean. I’ve never hit anyone.”

“Ever?” Blinky asked incredulously.

“I’ve never gotten into a fight.” As a human.

“In your entire life?”

“All fifteen years of it, yeah,” Jim said.

“Well, you fought Bular, however briefly, and you were glorious,” Blinky tried, attempting a smile. “Your blade-work was impressive!”

“That was just me trying not to die,” Jim retorted, and Blinky nodded.

“Exactly! The fight is within you, Master Jim. Trust yourself.” He placed his hands on Jim’s shoulders, looking at him kindly and giving him an encouraging shake. “One hit, and you’ll be changed forever.” He turned Jim back toward the arena.

Vendel raised his hand. “Begin.”

Jim tentatively raised his sword, looking across the arena toward Draal.

One hit - that’s what Blinky had said. With a well-aimed hit, Jim was sure he’d probably kill Draal; he was no Bular, after all. But that was probably bad, wasn’t it? Troll rule number two be damned. It would be weird for a fifteen year old human boy to kill a troll in his first fight, one hit or a thousand.

Draal was charging at him, having curled his immense body into a huge murderous bowling ball aimed right at Jim.

Jim jumped out of the way, only for Draal to come sailing through the air a second later, fists aimed for Jim’s face. When he moved to the side, Draal struck the ground of the Forge, sending up a huge cloud of brown dust that floated throughout the air and obscured Jim’s view.

A large fist struck him in the side, and Jim stumbled out of the cloud of dust, holding his side with one hand and holding his sword up with the other.

Draal came stalking out of the dust cloud, looking at him smugly, and Jim felt his anger rise. He gripped his sword tight. Draal ran at him, fists raised, and he struck Jim hard in the chest and again in the side. Jim landed hard on his back, sword still in hand.

As Draal took his time in getting closer and Jim carefully took note of and pushed down his pain, he saw an opening. If he pretended to lay low, to be caught up in the pain, Draal would come closer, maybe even grab him. He could strike then, push the sword into Draal’s hard stone flesh.

He groaned, mimicking pain. Draal stepped closer, eyes already revelling in his win.

It would be so easy. He tightened his grip on the sword.

Draal reached a hand out.

He was going to do it.

Draal’s hand closed around his torso.

He couldn’t do it.

No - it would turn out all wrong. He will have gotten rid of the annoyance that Draal was, but at what cost? Vendel seemed to like him, so killing him would most probably not land him in his good graces. And what would Toby think? Seeing his best human friend, previously so uncertain and cowardly, killing another sentient being with trickery and ferocity?

Draal lifted Jim up, and Jim dropped the sword, watching it disappear into a swirl of blue mist, and he let Draal walk him over to the edge of the Forge, where the ground gave way to a drop into certain death.

“Let him go!” Toby cried, and Jim clenched his jaw, holding tight to where Draal had his hand around him.

“I’ve waited my entire life to inherit that amulet,” Draal said, his lip curling up into a snarl. He seemed to look Jim over, watch the way his face moved, the way the air came in through his nose and out through his mouth. His eyes narrowed. “I can wait until you fall in battle.” He squeezed painfully hard on Jim’s torso before dropping him onto the ground of the Forge, inches away from the drop. “I suspect I won’t have to wait very long. If you know what’s good for you, stay down and live, worm.”

Jim’s hands curled into fists, and he stared hard at the ground, jaw clenched tight.

  
  


\---

  
  


“If anything, this just proves it,” Jim said as they walked out of Trollmarket, anger still curling low in his stomach. “An amulet can’t choose anyone - it’s just an amulet. If it had known what’s good for it, it would’ve chosen Draal.”

Even if Draal was a jackass hewn from stone. 

Jim was tired of the mental acrobatics that ultimately only made him look like an idiot. His body ached from where Draal had hit him.

“I understand you’re upset, Master Jim, but you’ve had not a moment’s training,” Blinky tried as they reached the edge of Trollmarket and the start of the spiral staircase of glowing blue gemstones. “There’s no shame in what just transpired.”

“Okay,” Jim said with a bitter laugh, turning to face Blinky. “Well, then you definitely weren’t paying attention back there, were you?” He shook his head. “Shame was about the  _ only  _ thing that transpired.” He sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “Shame… and realization.”

He’d tricked himself - just for a moment - that he might’ve been able to get something out of this whole nightmare. But the fight with Draal had just cemented it all in - he couldn’t be a noble servant, or a puppet, or a hero without bending over backwards to fulfill everyone’s twisted perceptions of what he  _ should  _ be rather than what he  _ was.  _ And he was sick of it.

He pulled the amulet out of his pocket, looking down at it for a moment before shaking his head with a humorless laugh. “I don’t know if Draal should be the Trollhunter, and I honestly don’t care. I just know that I’m not.”

He was a changeling. The only thing he was destined to be was a dirty rag to be used and tossed aside.

He let the amulet fall out of his hands, heard it clink down the glowing steps as he continued his way up the staircase.

“Master Jim, despite whatever doubts you may have about the amulet’s choice, it is now bonded to you,” Blinky said. There was a whirring sound in the air, and Jim turned just in time to catch the amulet before it hit him in the face. Blinky looked at him sadly. “This is a mantle you cannot refuse.”

Jim looked down at the amulet, at its familiar blue glow. He dropped it again, heard it clatter against the steps. “Watch me.”

  
  
  


\---

  
  


Jim walked into his room with a sigh. He began to walk to his bed, ready to flop onto it and go straight to sleep, when his eyes caught on a familiar blue glow emanating from his bag. He dug the amulet out from between his math homework and threw it into the garbage can.

Flopping down onto his bed, Jim took a moment to consider his aching side and chest. No doubt he’d have some nasty bruises, but nothing felt broken. He rolled onto his side - only to come face to face with the amulet, glowing happily on his pillow.

“Oh, shut up,” he said, and he grabbed it and placed it back in the garbage can. Just to be sure, he piled a collection of heavy books on top of the can. He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, letting out a sigh. 

When he opened his eyes, the amulet was glowing brightly right in front of him - outside of the garbage can.

The rest of the night, no matter what Jim did, the amulet followed after him, glowing brightly, tauntingly. It showed up in a bag of chips, in his medicine cabinet - wherever it was sure to be the most inconvenient.

He took it outside with a baseball bat, tossing it lightly in his hand before throwing it up and swinging the bat at it. He watched it sail through the air with a grim sort of satisfaction.

_ “Buenas noches,”  _ he said, turning around to go back inside, only to be hit in the back of the head by a round metal object.

He snapped his head around, glaring down at where the amulet had fallen onto the ground by his feet. The amulet glowed brightly.

His eye twitched.

  
  


\---

  
  


_ “Deny and refuse,” _ Ms. Janith was saying, pacing back and forth before the stage as she glanced down at her clipboard. “But he can’t deny it. Romeo can’t not be a Montague, which means that Juliet…” She looked expectantly at Claire.

_ “And I’ll no longer be a Capulet, _ ” Claire said, acting out the line.

“Exactly!” Ms. Janith said. She sat down on one of the fold-out chairs in front of the stage, looking at Jim. “And Jim?”

Jim squinted down at his clipboard. “Huh?”

_ “Or, if thou wilt not, be sworn my love,”  _ she supplied, and Jim looked down at the clipboard again.

“Right, got it. Love, deny, refuse - I’m on it.” This stupid play. He might’ve been able to deal with it if he was a minor character, but  _ Romeo?  _ What a nuisance.

“Okay, then,” Ms. Janith said, pushing up her glasses with her pencil before looking back down at her clipboard. “Let’s take it from  _ Wherefore art.” _

Jim let out a sigh, looking back down at his clipboard.

“You okay?” Claire asked softly, taking a step toward him.

“What?” He looked up from the clipboard, finding Claire’s big brown eyes soft on him. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Totally fine.”

Claire looked him over, her lips quirking up on one side. “You’re going to have to be a bit more convincing if you’re going to play Romeo.”

“Right,” Jim said. He looked down at the clipboard. He let out a sigh. “I just. Have some stuff going on in my head, I guess.”

She drummed her fingertips on her own clipboard for a moment, looking him over. “I know we don’t know each other all that well, but we’re going to be spending a lot of time together, so…” She trailed off, taking another step closer and brushing her hair behind her ear. There was something warm and soft in her eyes - something confusing.

“All right, all right,” Ms. Janith said, standing up and waving her pencil around. Both Jim and Claire turned to look at her. “Act 2, scene 3, line 33 - let’s go.”

Jim dutifully looked down at his clipboard, but he could feel Claire’s eyes on him, even when she stepped away and began her lines.

His eyebrows furrowed.

  
  


\---

  
  


“Where have you been?” Steve demanded, and Jim raised an eyebrow, closing his locker and turning around. Without hesitation, Steve got all up in his face, and Jim backed away, narrowing his eyes at him. “I scheduled your butt-whooping for Friday, jerk face. And you didn’t show - remember?”

“He was busy getting his butt whooped by someone else,” Toby said, unhelpfully. “Take a number.”

“Back off, dweeb,” Steve snapped, and Jim rolled his eyes.

“Steve, I am really not in the mood to do this right now.”

“Duh,” Steve said with a little scoff. “Nobody’s ever in the mood to get their face smashed in, but that’s what’s gonna happen, unless you want to back down.”

There was a crowd beginning to form around them, and Jim eyed them carefully, his grip on his bag tightening.

“I can back down?” Jim asked, looking back at Steve.

“Sure,” Steve said, fake-sweet, “you want to crawl away from me, on your knees, bowing in front of everybody?” He laughed, cruel and young. “Because that’s definitely a choice.”

Well, it’s not like he wanted to do that. In fact, it sounded awful and stupidly pre-pubescent. 

But he didn’t want to get into another pointless fight - one where he’d have to carefully measure his moves so as not to stick out too much. He just wanted to disappear into his former comfortable life, the life where stereotypical teenage bullies hardly registered him on their radar and trolls were simply a nameless cowardly enemy he didn’t have a sacred obligation to protect.

The crowd of students murmured around them.

Wasn’t that just wishful thinking, though? No matter what he did here, Steve would continue to harass him until they graduated. And the amulet wasn’t planning on letting him go easy - even now it was tucked into a pocket of his bag, zipped closed. He could feel it there, waiting for him.

Whatever happened next, a comfortable life was a far away thing now. All that was left was forward.

He dropped his bag to the ground, looking at Steve in the eye.

Steve pushed him hard in the chest, and Jim’s back slammed into the lockers. He ducked out of the way of Steve’s fist, dodging punches until Steve growled in frustration. “Keep still so I can punch you in the face!”

But Jim didn’t keep still. He avoided striking Steve by simply dancing out of his way - until Steve landed a lucky strike on Jim’s jaw. It wasn’t much, just a glancing blow, but the surprise of it knocked Jim to the ground.

“Stay down and live, worm,” Steve said, and Jim curled his hands in fists.

He stood up, glaring at Steve. “Is that all you got?”

Steve’s lip curled up, and he took a step toward Jim. Before he could swing, though, Claire ran out in front of Jim, throwing her arms out to protect him.

Jim blinked.

“Leave him alone, Steve!” Claire shouted, but Steve just shoved her to the side.

“Butt out, Claire,” he snapped as she stumbled over to be caught by her friends.

Jim stared after her, wondering what in the hell motivated her to do something stupid like that. She’d just said it earlier - they hardly knew each other.

“Good thing your mom’s a nurse,” Steve said, readying a fist to deliver the final blow.

Jim turned back to Steve, his jaw clenching tight. He brought his fist up, connecting to the underside of Steve’s chin, hard.

Steve fell back onto the ground, one of his front teeth falling out onto the ground.

Jim flexed his fist, glaring down at where Steve lay. “She’s a doctor, actually.”

The crowd of students around them cheered, and Toby ran up to him, punching a friendly fist to his shoulder. “Dude, you did it! And without even kicking him in the gronk-nuks!”

Well. He still could, technically.

He looked down at Steve, letting out a breath he hadn’t been aware he’d been holding.

Picking up his bag, he felt a pulse in his chest - the amulet. 

He’d have to find a way to work through this, to keep going forward. That part sucked, but punching Steve had felt good.

That, at least, he was sure of.

  
  


\---

  
  


“It was incredible!” Draal exclaimed to his troll companions with a laugh. He raised his cup, looking up at the ceiling of the tavern with a wistful sigh. “All I want is the chance to wail on that fleshbag again.”

He started to take a sip from his drink, but Jim grabbed the lip of the cup, slamming it back down onto the table. The drink, sour-smelling and foul, splattered all over the table and his hand, but Jim ignored it. “Wish granted, loudmouth,” he said, relishing in Draal’s expression of surprise. “Rematch. You. Me. Name the time, name the place, and I’ll be there.”

Draal stood up, glaring down at him, but Jim held his ground, resisting the urge to smile.

If destiny was already planning on using him dry, why not use destiny as an excuse to fight - and win - against Draal?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello isn't this chapter fun i think it's fun.
> 
> also what the heck the month of november lasted, like, five days. like five _extremely_ long days. just yesterday the us election was happening and supernatural's terrible bury-your-gays love confession had just aired. where did the time go. i also could've sworn that there were more weeks in november - so much so that i completely neglected a project that is in fact due tomorrow. technically today. nothing much i can do about that
> 
> anyway. november was weird and kinda bad. winter break starts for me in about two weeks, so that'll be fun. i might write more, which would be cool
> 
> come find me @peachcitt on both tumblr and twitter
> 
> thanks for reading ily

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY LISTEN. during my most recent rewatch, the idea of the new trollhunter having one foot in the human world and one in the troll world jumped out at me because like that's a changeling!!!! a changeling could do that!!!! what the heck why wasn't the new trollhunter a changeling???
> 
> i mean i love jim. i love him to death. but i really was curious about how the story would've changed and i needed to exorcise this. i mean, i plan on rewriting the whole show with changeling jim in mind, so stick around for that please thanks i love u
> 
> come find me on twitter/tumblr @peachcitt to yell about toa with me
> 
> i have no updating schedule as of right now just please know i won't abandon this because this is something i have to do like it's haunting me i think about it constantly i will post the next chapter as soon as it's ready i promise
> 
> ANYWAYS thanks for reading you're wonderful


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